Pausing with the intention of turning back, he glanced in the direction of the village church, the tower of which could just be seen through the trees. Dear me! if there isn't his knock. Stanley’s pace slackened. Why? Love was a word of God's, and yet her father had denied it—denied it to the Book, denied it to his own flesh and blood. ” “I want you to turn me. The doctor paced the room half a dozen times. Wood, furiously. “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.
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