"Oh, Heavens!" cried Mrs. It must be my fault that you have not learnt that your husband is the man to come to—at such a time as this. I do not care in the least. Anna rummaged about in her dressingcase, and finally drew out a letter. She was thinking fast now, all her senses on the alert. She had begun to care about her appearance again, looking into the glass he gave her, a thing nearly priceless that was bordered in intricate golden filigree and rubies. ‘That is the man who tries to kill me, but he wounded instead my servant. "Shall I never see that sweet face again,—never feel the pressure of those kind hands more—nor listen to that gentle voice! Ah! yes, we shall meet again in Heaven, where I shall speedily join you.
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