F. "Ah!" he exclaimed, "a letter, beginning 'dearest Aliva,'—that's your mother's name, Thames. "It is open," replied the lady, rushing towards it, and springing through the outlet. It would have been a crisis anyhow, but it was complicated in Ann Veronica’s mind by the fact that a letter lay on the breakfast-table from Mr. “Cheveney!” she repeated. Only she was conscious of an unfamiliar and wonderful emotion. " "God forbid!" exclaimed Wood, fervently; and, as if afraid of prolonging the interview, he added, with some precipitation, "But I must be going: I've stayed here too long already. Charity for the ragtag and the bobtail of the Seven Seas, and none for his own flesh and blood. “Let us put the lamp out,” she said; “the flames are ever so much better for talking,” and Ann Veronica agreed.
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