It was her sister who was dead—her sister whom, if she had not loved her, was yet her mother's child.
Then, for the first time, the horrible remembrance came to her.
In the place where the mother had died, the daughter who had despised her memory followed.
She sat down half paralyzed under the fearful thought that, after all, it was the "retribution" of which the old Mosaic law has spoken.
[CHAPTER XXXVII.]
Leonie had returned from her visit to the Chandlers.
Her eyes showed traces of weeping, and her countenance contained the radiant glow of a saint that has received the gift of righteousness through suffering.
Mr. and Mrs. Pryor, and the Misses Pryor, together with Lynde and Edith Pyne, were in the library awaiting her, and as she entered she was warmly greeted, and a comfortable chair placed for her.
"You look tired and worn, dear!" exclaimed Mrs. Pryor, with motherly kindness. "I think it would be much better for you to go up-stairs and take a much-needed rest, than allow yourself to be tormented by these careless young people."