"Jack," exclaimed the widow, starting up and drawing back the curtain. Then she spoke, with a carelessness he instantly suspected. Every home is a little recess, a niche, out of the world of business and competition, in which women and the future shelter. " "You're not going to betray me!" cried Jack, in alarm. After Gwen!” “I sent a telegram. “Oh, you know,” she said. "Well, I'm glad she's spared this. Listen to your mother's prayers, and do not let her die brokenhearted. “Will you come in, Sir John.
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