Only the next of kin. The hand which the man had been holding hung limp and nerveless at her side. He took a sip of punch and commenced his relation. She was taken dreadfully ill on the road, with spasms and short breath, and swoonings,—worse than ever she was before. Hurt beyond what he could imagine by the selfishness and pride of her forbears, whose fateful disputes had robbed her of the life she should have led, the plucky little devil had taken matters into her own hands. On the floor was a handkerchief, a little morsel of lace. But the general was turning on him, the hint of emotion wiped from his lined features. “You must not. So it will be wise for Mrs.
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