\" His tone was weak and conciliatory. Wood, in deploring his wild career, adverted to the melancholy condition to which it had reduced his mother. ‘You are stubborn like a mule. ‘Oh, are there? You are not quite alone in these adventures of yours, I take it. "Let us hope that, like her who 'loved much,' her sins are forgiven her. Come along with us in the morning. ” He recognized the force, almost the passion, which trembled in her tone, and he at once abandoned the subject. My father has made every possible inquiry, and offered large rewards; but has not been able to discover the slightest trace of him.
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