Will you find your destiny, I wonder, or will you go through life like so many others—a wanderer, knocking ever at empty doors, homeless to the last? Oh, if one could but find the way to your heart. Miss Stanley walked round the garden thinking, and presently house and garden reverberated to Ann Veronica’s slamming of the front door. There was only one prisoner in the ward. The scrutiny of any strange man provoked a sweaty terror. " "I shall require them as well," rejoined Sheppard; "and your boots. \" She said, bashful. About halfway across this interval, when everything seemed going well, Capes had a shock. A few feet away, across the low vases of pink and white roses, sat Annabel, more beautiful to-night perhaps than ever before in her life. .
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