See, here it is." He takes out from a note-book a slip of paper; the writing is elegant and feminine.
She reads: "January 12th.

Just twenty years to-day.

Oh! Heaven! teach me to kiss the rod." No signature, only a mark like a tear-drop.
"Now you realize my position; you can, in a measure, understand the peculiar mingling of love, reverence, and pity with which I think of this mother, and how the thought of her enters into every act of mine." "Yes, yes, I do indeed," sympathetically.
"I have sworn to find her--to let her know there is one who loves the poor exile.

Let my father rage if he will, my heart burns to meet her.
I will proceed.

This letter was postmarked Malta, here at Valetta." "But you did not mention--" "I knew the steamer would stop a few hours at least, and thought that might be enough in which to learn the truth.