“MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. "Perhaps you could point out such a party, Mr. ” “You do not flatter me,” she laughed. “You need a reason. Wood. She passed people in the streets and regarded them with a quickening apprehension, once or twice came girls dressed in slatternly finery, going toward Regent Street from out these places. Quilt, who was an ardent lover of mischief, could not help laughing most heartily at the rueful appearance of these personages. As soon as dinner was over she went into the kitchen and devoted herself to compiling a tray—not a tray merely of halfcooled dinner things, but a specially prepared “nice” tray, suitable for tempting any one. " "Good news will be news to me.
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