"I'll tell you a dream I had last night," continued the unfortunate being. " "Dare not!" echoed the carpenter; "I don't understand you, Joan. She paced restlessly to the door and back again, biting her tongue on the hot words begging to be uttered. “I wonder,” she began, presently, “why I love you—and love you so much?. Wild horses wouldn’t drag it out of me, even I knew anything, which I don’t. The mighty concourse became for a moment still. My only love is for my poor lost son. Perhaps if I had watched over her more closely, things would have been different. ” She seated herself in a loose and easy attitude and surveyed the backs of the Avenue houses; then her eyes wandered to where the new red-and-white villas peeped among the trees. She had not noticed such beauty in many years, and it almost caused her to weep. ’ She seemed to recollect herself suddenly.
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