How she had coveted her mother’s beauty and sought to emulate it, if only to please her. The doctor jumped to his feet. She seemed to be making some sort of inventory. To reach it would be a most difficult undertaking. At breakfast both of them played their parts skillfully. Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail.
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