"You forgive all, Eve?"
A kiss upon the rigid lips was the silent but expressive answer.
A fervent "God Almighty bless you," a faint sigh and Montague Arnold had sought another and we trust a better home.
Mrs. Arnold is truly a widow in a strange land, yet He who is the husband of the widow has not forsaken her. The aged gentleman, his dutiful daughter and the lovely Lalia have given her the warmest sympathy, and taken her to their snug and cosey home.
Only a few weeks had passed away since Evelyn had written Marguerite, but how much had transpired in that time? It was when she had received a second letter that the thought occurred that she had been remiss.
"Marguerite, sweet girl! she will never knew what I have suffered," and with these words upon her lips Mrs. Arnold sat down and penned as much of her sad story as she then thought fit to confide.
"That is all," murmured the writer folding up the blurred page and addressing the letter. Then for the first time since the days of her happy, sunny childhood Evelyn Arnold took up a neatly bound Testament. She had an indistinct remembrance of something concerning the prodigal son and now wished to know for herself.
The sad, pathetic picture soon possessed a charm and the story was read over many times ere the volume was laid aside.
"Thank God," mused the reader and the words were wafted aloft until they reached the
——"Kingly palace gate;
With frontispiece of diamond and of gold
Embellished."