Wood's daughter,—to whom, I've heard tell, he was attached years ago,—was brought up, his courage forsook him altogether, and he trembled, and could scarcely stand. She could not feel her own body. And now— I suppose I should be considered too old. “I am afraid,” she said, “that he must have a skeleton key to these rooms. "And someday let him care for me!" She sprang up, alarmed. "To be plain, then," said Winifred, "he has asked me whether I have any objection to you as a mother. He could not kiss Ruth because the acquired conscience—struggling on its way to limbo—made the idea repellant. “The life of a private secretary is positively one of slavery. He seemed to be trying to understand something very perplexing and elusive.
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