Then a servant girl brought in a telegram. The door was closed— locked,—and the pair were heard descending the stairs. You make me angry, and I lie. Winifred listened to his narration with the profoundest attention; and, when it concluded, her tearful eye and throbbing bosom told how deeply her feelings had been interested. By this time Capes’ hair had bleached nearly white, and his skin had become a skin of red copper shot with gold. Her fingers rested upon his. The spectacle seemed to afford as much amusement to Jonathan as to the actors engaged in it. Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. You have been to see your sister, of course.
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