Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. She asked the inevitable question, the one she knew Michelle was waiting to field like a quarterback anticipating the pass. Is there anything you want?" She laid her hand on his forehead, and found it without fever. "Let us hope that, like her who 'loved much,' her sins are forgiven her. Already she had sent him twenty pounds, and never written to explain to him why it was she had not sent it back sharply directly he returned it. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands.
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