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We both understood that. 'Slife! you are wonderfully altered. Go up and get my daughter so we can have some homemade pie. She turned into the study, sat down at the table and fingered the pencils, curiously stirred. It was fortunate that by this time Winifred had so far recovered, as to be able to afford her father the best and only solace that, under the circumstances, he could have received,—her personal attentions. You are greatly altered. Her voice was soft and singularly musical; but from time to time she uttered old-fashioned words which forced him to grope mentally. “I HAVE—had one or two talks with him, daddy.
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