No, he must have got over it," responded Gabriella, with an impassioned emphasis, "and, besides, even if he cared, I don't want to marry again.

My children are enough for me." "It won't look that way next year when both the children are away at school, and when they once break away from your apron strings they're the sort that will go the way they want to and look out for their own happiness.

You won't have much of Archibald while he's at school and college, and Fanny will marry befo' she's twenty just as sure as you live.

Why, she's already got her head full of beaux.

Have you noticed that picture of an actor she keeps on her bureau ?" "Yes" admitted Gabriella anxiously, "I've noticed it, but when I asked her about it, she only laughed." After this the conversation dropped, and the two women put away their work for the might; but hours later, while Miss Polly lay in her hard little bed wondering if it would be possible to "fix" things between Gabriella and Arthur, the stern heroine of her romance wept a few tender tears on her pillow.
In the morning, with the tears still ready to spring at a touch, Gabriella read a letter from her mother, which he had found, beside the baker's rolls, at the door.
_Richmond, Thursday_.
DEAR CHILD: As the others are all out to-night, and I have finished the mat I was crocheting, I thought I would send you a letter to reach you on your birthday instead of the telegram from the family.