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. His gaze remained steady on the old dame’s face, as he thought about it. There was a little pause between them, full for Ann Veronica of rapid elusive suspicions and intimations. The trader you spoke about: he disliked your father, didn't he? Well, he probably played your father a horrible practical joke. That's the way she strikes me. But if not himself, there would be another soon enough. One morning he caught her hand suddenly and kissed it. ‘Damnation!’ Confused, he released her, and in an instant she had darted away and was running down the garden. Between herself and yonder evil mind she had the strongest buckler God could give—love. ’ Melusine’s eyes flashed. ‘Come along. ” “I hope,” he answered, looking at her in some surprise, “that we shall have many more such to think about. Her father had smiles ready for her, he seemed to be truly happy with her for the first time since her infancy. Wood again made his appearance in a more composed frame of mind, and, at his daughter's earnest solicitation, was induced to partake of some refreshment.
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