She could still smell the now familiar scent of him on the girl's body in the makeshift grave. Wood's favourite sitting-room, and her image was so intimately associated with it, neither the carpenter nor his daughter could muster courage to enter it before. She closed the book that she had been pretending to read and gathered her black umbrella and her backpack, a childish accoutrement she despised. The ladies can't sleep in their beds for him; and as to the men, they daren't go to bed at all. "I am—I am!" cried the widow, snatching the babe, and pressing it to her breast with rapturous delight "God be thanked, I have found it!" "We have both good reason to be grateful," added the lady, with great emotion. His employer retreated into the further apartment, leaving the door ajar. There was a look in her eyes which puzzled him. " "I am acquainted with Mr. I do not think you quite understand my ideals or what is becoming as between father and daughter.
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