’ She grimaced. “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. “You must come and see me some afternoon,” she said to him. ‘Gammon. The ragged edge. ” “A—marriage certificate!” Annabel gasped. Good-bye, aunt. They had chosen to deliberately and wickedly insult a lady who had done her best to entertain them for many weeks. Had he been sick in the mind when he had done this damnable thing? It did not seem possible, for he could recall clearly all he had said and done; there were no blank spaces to give him one straw of excuse. “What were you trying to do?” Lucy asked.
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