"No; I don't think I'd laugh. The lad had just barely jangled it, when hurrying footsteps could be heard inside. But the letter, written in his son’s own hand, and addressed to the Mother Abbess of the Convent of the Sisters of Wisdom near Blaye in the district of Santonge, dated a little over five years previously, exercised a powerful effect upon him. You need not be afraid. “Let’s go in here. "Untie his arms, and take off that handkerchief. A tall elegantly dressed woman, followed by a maid, came down the broad staircase. ’ ‘I do not tell you why,’ the lady uttered flatly. She crawled underneath the soft white sheets, reclining and pulling the blankets up to her chin. “No,” she said, under her breath, “you can’t face it. Sheppard's good health, and success to him!" Baptist's toast was received with loud applause, and, as he sat down amid the cheers of the company, and a universal clatter of mugs and glasses, the widow's view was no longer obstructed. . “You are a dear,” she exclaimed affectionately. The place for reading. The subject matter was generally worthless, but the handling was well done.
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