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“Don’t you think I ought to?” she asked, very submissively. And he who opposes me in it shall feel the weight of my hand. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON. ” The lights sank, the prelude to the third act was beginning, the music rose and fell in crowded intimations of lovers separated—lovers separated with scars and memories between them, and the curtain went reefing up to display Tristan lying wounded on his couch and the shepherd crouching with his pipe. Half an hour passed, but Jack did not make his appearance. “Oh, Ann Veronica!” he cried, “I cannot let you go like this! You don’t understand. She was shaking violently when she entered the side door of the house.

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