not been a
better wife, but God knows I have done the best I
could. Tell him I have loved him, that I love him
still, and have never loved him more than I do
to-day. But oh, my baby, do not tell him that the
full-orbed sun has risen before one who knew only
twilight before.

"And, if you can, love your mother a little, as
she lies asleep in her far-away grave. Your
father, if he has not forgotten me, will have
dealt gently with my memory--of that I am sure.
But I do not quite trust Miriam, and I do not know
what she may have said. She loved your father and
I took him away from her. She has never forgiven
me for that and she never will.

[Sidenote: A Burden]

"If I have done wrong, it has been in thought only
and not in deed. I do not believe we can control
thought or feeling, though action and speech can
be kept within bounds. Forgive me, Barbara,
darling, and love me if you can.

"Your

"MOTHER."

The last words danced through the blurring mist and Barbara sobbed aloud
as she put the letter down. Blind though he was, her father had felt the
lack--the change. The pity of it all overwhelmed her.

Her thought flew swiftly to Roger, but--no, he must not know. This
letter was written to the living and not to the dead. Aunt Miriam would
ask no questions--she was sure of that--but the message to her father
lay heavily upon her soul. How could she make him believe in the love he
so hungered for even now?

As the hours passed, Barbara became calm. When Miriam came in to see if
she wanted anything, she asked for pencil and paper, and for a book to
be propped up on a pillow in front of her, so that she might write.

Miriam obeyed silently, taking an occasional swift, keen look at
Barbara, but the calm, impassive face and the deep eyes were
inscrutable.

[Sidenote: The Meaning Changed]

As soon as she was alone again, she began to write, with difficulty,
from her mother's letter, altering it as little as possible, and yet
changing the meaning of it all. She could trust herself to read from her
own sheet, but not from the other. It took a long time, but at last she
was satisfied.

It was almost dusk when Ambrose North returned, and Barbara asked for a