It is I who took the burden of your misdeeds upon my shoulders that you might become Lady Ferringhall. He did so care for you. There was still the pity of understanding in Ruth's eyes. Taber," said the manager. ‘Was this when Nicholas commended you to this Abbess?’ ‘But, yes. He pulled her from him to kiss her on the mouth and paused, looking into her face. It was equally as beautiful but not quite so fine as the daughter's. The gulf between rich and poor was perhaps greater in France, but by all accounts it was not the canaille who were responsible for the present turmoil. Yet the fact remains that you do not understand me at all. “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.
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