" "I'm not afraid, mother," said the little girl, smelling at the bouquet. This man was her husband in the eyes of both God and man. What'syour-name!" "Charcam," replied the attendant, bowing. In the midst of the holy place, which he had formerly profaned, lay the body of his unfortunate mother, and he could not help looking upon her untimely end as the retributive vengeance of Heaven for the crime he had committed. He cupped her small hands in the bowl of his large ones and reassured her in the kindest manner, saying, “You will have the finest life that Florence has to offer. Pile it on! But if you can hear the voice of the mote, the speck, don't let her suffer for anything I've done.
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