CHAPTER III. “The truth!” Annabel bent over her and whispered in her sister’s ear. You are restless, aggressive, critical with all the crude unthinking criticism of youth. Her eardrums were burning with the echoes of those hideous shouts. ” Her mind went back to that treaty. But he was destined to have every tide of feeling awakened—every wound opened. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. ’ For my own part I go about loving. “He wants to settle something on you, I believe.
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