” “Nor I. "Allow him that small grace," cried Wood. “And you brought her a man, I presume. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. "Will you write," asked the doctor, "and tell me how you are getting along?" "Oh, yes!" "The last advice I can give you is this: excite his imagination; get him started with his writing. As to the picture, I'll keep it myself, though, if you do go I shall need no memorial of you. Italians. The thought of the picture but added to her despondency. Part of her felt like laughing insanely at how badly she had been duped. "I am quite easy now; receive my blessing, my dear son; and if we never meet again, rest assured my last prayer shall be for you.
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