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. The poor child! What frightful things she must have seen on that island of hers! The noise of crashing glass caused a diversion; and Ruth turned gratefully toward the sound. Anna did not pause, but she looked over her shoulder with slightly lifted eyebrows. And then I came here. "For my part, it's only what I expected of him," observed Mrs. “It is not that. “Please forgive me coming up, Miss Pellissier, but you have not been down to dinner for three nights, and—Brendon and I—we were afraid that you might be unwell. A glance sufficed to show the young man how matters stood. No sterner head was ever beheld beneath the cowl of a monk, or the bonnet of an inquisitor. CHAPTER XII.
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