And he hazarded a wink at the poet over the paper on which he was sketching. Annabel ignored both the chair and the invitation. The softly glittering summer stars! She saw them shining over mountains of snow, over valleys of haze and warm darkness. ” He thought. A strange betrothal!—the primal idea of which was escape! The girl, intent upon abrogating for ever all legal rights of the father in the daughter, of rendering innocuous the thing she had now named the Terror: the boy, seeking selfcrucifixion in expiation of his transgression, changing a peccadillo into damnation! It was easy for Ruth to surrender to the idea, for she believed she was loved; and in gratitude it was already her determination to give this boy her heart's blood, drop by drop, if he wanted it. It was the bitterest moment of her life. " "Hear me, Madam, I beseech you," interposed Mrs.
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