“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. To get behind that impenetrable curtain, to learn why she hated her island. Then she came a few steps to meet him. He HAD followed her! What had he followed her for? He must have followed her all the way from beyond Grosvenor Square. Do you see the time?” “I may come and see you?” Ennison asked, as his hand touched hers. And a broken picture that was torn when I hit him with it. ‘Are you going to come quietly, mademoiselle?’ he demanded with grim determination. "When I heard of your escape, I felt sure I should see you. You must come and tell me all about it, although I am not sure whether we shall forgive you for not having written to any of us. Her tone should have warned him, but he was too much in earnest to regard it. And by monsieur le baron, of a disposition entirely unforgiving, I do not desire to be recognised in the least.
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