"My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack. “Sir John,” her aunt repeated, with thin emphasis, “is coming to see your sister. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. Then came the great day. She would always be going to and fro up the Avenue, getting glimpses of Ramage, seeing him in trains. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. She could tell that he was furious in that instant. ’ He reddened a little, and shuffled his feet. Now when I tell you exactly the truth, you will also not believe me. Only I wish—I wish to-day I was a thousand times, ten thousand times more beautiful. But the letter, written in his son’s own hand, and addressed to the Mother Abbess of the Convent of the Sisters of Wisdom near Blaye in the district of Santonge, dated a little over five years previously, exercised a powerful effect upon him.
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