Then simple, honest Lance turned to me with his face full of animation.
"John, did you ever see such a tender-hearted woman in all your life?
She is almost too sensitive." My suspicions were certainties now, and my mind was more than ever tossed and whirled in tortured doubt and dread.

I shall never forget one evening that came soon afterwards.

We went to dine with a friend of Lance's, a Squire Peyton, who lived not far away, and he was the possessor of some very fine pictures, of which he was very proud.

He took us through his pretty arranged gallery.
"This is my last purchase," he said.
We all three stopped to look at a large square picture representing the mother of the little Moses placing his cradle of rushes amongst the tall reeds in the water.
I saw Mrs.Fleming look at it with eyes that were wet with tears.
"Does it sadden you ?" asked Lance.

"It need not; the little one looks young and tender to be left alone, but the water is silent and the mother is near.