A fortnight passed, then a month. Then he paused. This was no night for the indulgence of dreamy musing. Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. “But it is so difficult——” “Not at all,” he answered eagerly. 'Mrs. " "Oh! do not say so," replied his wretched parent. ’ Martha looked up, belligerence in her tone. Softly she rose to her feet.
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