The next morning came a compact letter from her father. ' That's your signal. I could not have spoken to her. In vain Wood protested his innocence. Be on your guard. We girls, my sister and I, were left quite alone when our father died, and I made up my mind to make some little place in the world for myself. " "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. And all to find that picture of Mary Remenham. He stood by her side, and he suffered her hands to rest in his. She answered in whispers, for there was the white arm of a woman in the next box peeping beyond the partition within a yard of him.
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