" CHAPTER XVIII. " "I think I remember reading something about your father in the papers," observed Wood. But he was destined to have every tide of feeling awakened—every wound opened. ‘Certainly this is true,’ she managed. He looked exactly as she had dreamed him, handsome, rigidly dressed in a black suit, his hair still half gray, his eyes green and flashing like a cat’s. "There is no fee," said Dolby. And thus it was that she came upon a book of Stevenson's verse—her first adventure into poetry. My poor Hoddy! I had to talk harshly, or break down and have hysterics. ‘How dull it must have been for you, poor little one. "Ah! what is that?" he cried, pointing to a dark object floating near them amid the boiling waves, and which presented a frightful resemblance to a human face. Then she went in and up-stairs, hesitated on the landing, and finally, a little breathless and with an air of great dignity, opened the door and walked into Ann Veronica’s room.
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