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His son listened to his retreating footsteps

"As bigoted as ever, poor fellow!" he said; "but what a fool I was to

mention the subject" And he continued his supper in silence When

Betto ca hihted up but a se, cold roo about, to beguile the tedious hour before bedtihts should revert to the earlier hours of the

evening? that he should hear again in fancy the soft voice that said,

"I am Valmai Powell," and that he should picture to hi curls that escaped froes and large rooms, was full of

those naht He

heard his father's footsteps as he paced up and down in his study, he

heard the tick-tack of the old clock on the stairs, the bureau creaked,

the candle spluttered, but there was no human voice to break the

silence, With a yawn he rose, stretching his long legs, and, throwing

back his broad shoulders, e which led

into the kitchen, where the farm servants were seated at supper Betto

moved the beehive chair into a cosy corner beside the fire for the

young ed their forelocks, and the

wo bob-curtsey

"Have so black bowl

and spoon