l politeness, when
Corbin said:--

"Read it out loud."

The Colonel slightly lifted his shoulders, fortified himself with
another sip of the julep, and, leaning back, oratorically began to
read,--the stranger leaning over him and following line by line with
shining eyes.

"'When I say I am sorry for you, it is because I think it must be
dreadful for you to be going round with the blood of a fellow-creature
on your hands. It must be awful for you in the stillness of the night
season to hear the voice of the Lord saying, "Cain, where is thy
brother?" and you saying, "Lord, I have slayed him dead." It must be
awful for you when the pride of your wrath was surfitted, and his
dum senseless corps was before you, not to know that it is written,
"Vengeance is mine, I will repay," saith the Lord. . . . It was no use
for you to say, "I never heard that before," remembering your teacher
and parents. Yet verily I say unto you, "Though your sins be as scarlet,
they shall be washed whiter than snow," saith the Lord--Isaiah i. 18;
and "Heart hath no sorrow that Heaven cannot heal."--My hymn book, 1st
Presbyterian Church, page 79. Mr. Corbin, I pity your feelins at the
grave of my pore dear cousin, knowing he is before his Maker, and you
can't bring him back.' Umph!--er--er--very good--very good indeed," said
the Colonel, hastily refolding the letter. "Very well meaning and--er"--

"Go on," said Corbin over his shoulder, "you haven't read all."

"Ah, true. I perceive I overlooked something. Um--um. 'May God forgive
you, Mr. Corbin, as I do, and make aunty think better of you, for it was
good what you tried to do for her and the fammely, and I've always said
it when she was raging round and wanting money of you. I don't believe
you meant to do it anyway, owin' to your kindness of heart to the
ophanless and the widow since you did it. Anser this letter, and
don't mind what aunty says. So no more at present from--Yours very
respectfully, SALLY DOWS.

"'P. S.--There's been some troubel in our township, and some fitin'. May
the Lord change ther hearts and make them as a little child, for if you
are still young you may grow up different. I have writ a short prayer
for you to say every night. You can coppy it out and put it at the head
of your bed. It is this: O Lord make me sorry for having killed Sarah
Dows' cousin. Give me, O Lord, that peace that the world cannot give,
and which fadeth not away; for my yoke is heavy, and my burde