"You shouldn't have made that allusion to her brother," said Mrs. Delancey, sympathizingly.
"Dry your eyes immediately, Della; I am ready to go," said her father, sternly.
Della choked back her tears, and rising, approached her father, and gracefully put her lips to his forehead, and gave the usual morning kiss.
"No more scenes to-day, Della."
"No, papa."
The door closed, and he was gone.
CHAPTER XI.
| "Then I'll look up; My fault is past. But oh, what form of prayer Can serve my turn? Try what repentance can: what can it not? Yet what can it, when one cannot repent?" Hamlet. |