Sheppard's ward, Sir. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. Then fury claimed her and she could no longer pretend. He got up. To-morrow we'll raise our first island. “Do you mean, aunt,” she asked, “that my father thought I had gone off—with some man?” “What else COULD he think? Would any one DREAM you would be so mad as to go off alone?” “After—after what had happened the night before?” “Oh, why raise up old scores? If you could see him this morning, his poor face as white as a sheet and all cut about with shaving! He was for coming up by the very first train and looking for you, but I said to him, ‘Wait for the letters,’ and there, sure enough, was yours. Soup would help you feel better, soup and hot tea. White,” she remarked. You’d think he wanted to meet the wretch again. ” He leaned back in his chair as though wearied. ‘You are Mrs Ibstock, I think,’ she said eagerly.
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