To-morrow he might be sorry; but to-day, this hour! She rose, not quickly, but with a dignity which only accentuated her beauty. All about her, hither and yon, lay the enticing Unknown. “I don’t mind, of course, your seeing her sometimes, still there are differences— differences in social atmospheres. "I've made no distinction between you, hitherto," answered Wood; "nor shall I do so, unless I'm compelled. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. ” She commented. ’ ‘But you must want more. His father spoke for him. "I must go. She held out the foil. You are different, Lucia, undamaged even after what you have been through, still pure of heart.
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