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—Give me the letters, my love," she added aloud, and in her most winning accents; "they're some wicked forgeries. ” “You and your father?” Lucy asked. To be free of outward distraction, he shut his eyes and concentrated upon the scraps she had given him; and shortly, with his eyes still closed, he began to describe Ruth's island: the mountain at one end, with the ever-recurring scarves of mist drifting across the lava-scarred face; the jungle at the foot of it; the dazzling border of white sand; the sprawling store of the trader and the rotting wharf, sundrily patched with drift-wood; the native huts on the sandy floor of the palm groves; the scattered sandalwood and ebony; the screaming parakeets in the plantains; the fishing proas; the mission with its white washed walls and barren frontage; the lagoon, fringed with coco palms, now ruffled emerald, now placid sapphire. ’ ‘Grossly unfair, too. She felt he was going to say something more—something still more personal and intimate. " "Go, I insist," cried Thames, "or take the consequences upon yourself. You did not complain then that I personated you—no, nor when Sir John came to me in Paris, and for your sake I lied.

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