"Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. He trembled, not from any superstitious dread, but from an undefined sense of approaching danger. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. "No matter how much I tell of myself, I shall always keep something back. One has to train one’s self not to. She felt a hysterical desire to strike him, to burst out crying, to blurt out the whole miserable truth. Ever and again Capes appealed to Ann Veronica. “Intolerable idiots!. She meditated long and carefully upon her letter to her father before she wrote it, and gravely and deliberately again before she despatched it. She met his eyes for a moment, and could not interpret their expression. ” “Then may I come to the study to-night—after dinner?” “I’m—BUSY!” “It’s important. .
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