Oh! I did not think of myself only, but of her, when I heard the saintly youth breathe that plaintive prayer, 'Draw them to thee, for they wearily labor: they are heavily laden, gracious Father! oh, give them rest!' "'No chilling winds or pois'nous breath Can reach that healthful shore: Sickness and sorrow, pain and death, Are felt and fear'd no more.'" "And my father ?" asked Hope, in a low voice.
"He went abroad for many years.

Then he returned, and came sometimes to Pinewood.

His life was irregular.

I think he gambled, for he and your grandfather often had high words in the library about the money that he wanted.

But your grandfather never allowed you to leave the place.