"A vow," she answered,—"a vow to my dead husband. They were bickering, she could tell by the way the mother threw her fat arms into the air and paced restlessly about the tiny clapboard house. Little more’n a week. "Perhaps," replied Wood, doubtfully. It is attested, you will observe, by the Reverend Mr. ’ She shuddered, throwing her hands over her face. In this way, more than a month passed over. Dorling said. ” She pointed with shaking fingers to a great bunch of dark red carnations, thrust carelessly into a deep china bowl, to which the card was still attached.
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