n, for now, knowing that he loves me, I can bear almost
anything."

Tears were streaming down the mother's cheeks, and pressing her lips
to the white mournful face of her daughter she beckoned Mr. Palma to
her side. For a moment she hesitated, held up the fair fingers and
kissed them, then as if distrusting herself, quickly laid the little
hand in his.

"Take my darling; and remember that she is the most precious gift a
miserable mother ever yielded up."

After a moment Mrs. Laurance whispered something, and very won the
lovely face flushed a brilliant rose, the soft tender eyes were
lifted timidly to Mr. Palma's face, and as he drew her to aim, she
glided from her mother's arms into his, feeling his lips rest like a
blessing from God on her pure brow.

"Does my Lily love me best?"

Only the white arms answered his whisper, clasping his neck; and Mrs.
Laurance and Mr. Chesley left them, with the dewy roses overhead
swinging like censers in the glorious autumn morning and the sacred
chimes of church bells dying in silvery echoes, among the olive and
myrtle that clothed the distant hills.

CHAPTER XXXVII.

In consenting to bestow Regina's hand on Mr. Palma, Mrs. Laurance had
stipulated that the marriage should be deferred for one year,
alleging that her daughter was yet very young, and having been so
long separated she wished her to remain with her at least for some
months. Mr. Palma reluctantly assented to conditions which compelled
him to return to America without Regina, and in November Mrs.
Laurance removed to Milan, where she desired that her child's fine
voice and musical talent should be trained and developed by the most
superior instruction.

Swiftly the twelve months sped away, and in revisiting the
Mediterranean shores, linked by so many painful reminiscences with
the period of her former sojourn, Mrs. Laurance, despite the efforts
of her faithful and fond companion, seemed to sink into a confirmed
melancholy.

By tacit agreement no reference was ever made to her past life, but a
shadow chill and unlifting brooded over her, and the sleeplessness
that no opiate could conquer--a sleeplessness born of heart-ache
which no spell could narcotize--robbed her cheek of its bloom, and
left weary lines on her patient, hopeless face.

Mr. Chesley had returned with Mr. Palma to the United States, and
late in the following autumn Mrs. Laurance and Regina sailed for New
York.

The associations of the v