For a few minutes, Darrell seemed to have the advantage in the conflict. "Oh, I've read that!" Spurlock had heard distinctly enough all of this odd conversation; but until the spinster's reference to the family album, no phrase had been sufficient in strength of attraction to break the trend of his own unhappy thoughts. How to hold her, how to keep her at his side; this was the problem with which he struggled. “I don’t see why not,” he answered. But the letter, written in his son’s own hand, and addressed to the Mother Abbess of the Convent of the Sisters of Wisdom near Blaye in the district of Santonge, dated a little over five years previously, exercised a powerful effect upon him. Next to the executioner stood his wife—the former Mrs.
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