" So she told him the adventure of the two beachcombers in the typhoon, and how they became regenerated by their magnificent courage. Shortly afterwards,—it seemed an age to the anxious mother,—Mr. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. ” “You won’t!” said Ann Veronica; with the clearest note of determination. It seemed incredible that she and her aunt were, indeed, creatures of the same blood, only by a birth or so different beings, and part of that same broad interlacing stream of human life that has invented the fauns and nymphs, Astarte, Aphrodite, Freya, and all the twining beauty of the gods.
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