Do you recall the night she showed you the face in the locket? Do you remember how she said—'If only my mother had lived'? Did you ever see anything more tender or beautiful?" "I remember. ‘Couldn’t even trouble to make a pretence of motherhood. shouldn’t be friends. Any one less courageous than himself would have abandoned the attempt from a conviction of its utter hopelessness; but, though it might for a moment damp his ardour, it could not deter him. She had thought of the lawyer who conducted the Remenham business, but she knew not where to find him. At the cost of quite a number of torn drafts she succeeded in evolving this: “DEAR MR.
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