made her restless, and I heard her sob. When I tried to relieve the
suffering, she cried bitterly: 'It is not my poor body alone--it is
the gnawing hunger to see father once more. He loved me so fondly
once and if I could crawl to his feet, and clasp his knees in my
arms, I could at least die in peace. I am starving for just one
sight of him--one touch.' My poor darling mother! My beautiful,
bruised, broken flower."

Through the glittering mist of unshed tears, her eyes shone, like
silver lamps; and for a moment Gen'l Darrington covered his face
with one hand.

"If you could realize how bitterly galling to my own pride and self
respect is this appeal to a man who hates and spurns all whom I
love, I think, sir, that even you would pity me so heartily, that
your hardened heart would melt into one last farewell message of
forgiveness to your unfortunate daughter. I would rather carry her
one word of love than all your fortune."

"No--I come of a flinty race. We never forgive insults; never
condone wrongs; and expecting loyalty in our own blood, we cannot
live long enough to pardon its treachery. Once, I made an idol of my
beautiful, graceful, high-bred girl; but she stabbed my pride,
dragged my name through the gutters, broke her doting mother's
heart; and now, I tell you, she is as dead to me as if she had lain
twenty-three years in her grave. I have only one message. Tell her
she is reaping the tares her own hand sowed. I know her no more as
child of mine, and my son fills her place so completely, I do not
even miss her. That is the best I can say. No doubt I am hard, but
at least I am honest; and I will not feign what I cannot feel."