I read it in the anxious, wistful, prophetic expression of her soft, deep black eyes, whenever they rested on me.

Those beautiful, mysterious eyes! There was a mystery about her that gave power to her excellence and beauty.

Through the twilight shades of her sorrowful loneliness, I could trace only the dim outline of her past life.

I was fatherless,--and annihilation, as well as death, seemed the doom of him who had given me being.

I was forbidden to mention his name.