Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. Who walked you home?\" Mike asked her, his voice tinged with jealousy, as she passed the garlic bread. She padded up the stairs to the bedroom, finding that her sheets had been changed with a fresh pillow case to welcome her weary head. She has had offers innumerable; for where wealth and beauty are combined, as in her instance, suitors are seldom wanting. I am not come here to play the part of your father-confessor. Go and live somewhere else. " "Mother!" cried Jack, in a broken voice. "What I do is for the best, and I can only hope she may have strength to bear the separation.
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