. Blotted out—Love! With infinite care, through nearly a thousand pages, her father had obliterated the word Love. Wagstaff. "It must look sharp then, or I shall give it the slip," laughed Ben: "the gale never yet blowed as could perwent my crossing the Thames. Let your father—if he chooses, leave all his wealth to his adopted son. Recognising the handwriting, he glanced swiftly at the signature, and uttering an explosive curse, cast the paper from him. The man Hill has persecuted me for months—ever since I have been in England. But, you see, I’m smirched. ’ ‘Yes, it’s all my fault,’ he agreed soothingly, ‘and you may rail at me presently as much as you please. . At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat. What happened? Did you turn me?” “Yes, my love.
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