“MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. “I cannot say more. ” The wonderful likeness between the two girls was never less noticeable than at that moment. Spurlock (himself verging upon the hysterical) welcomed the diversion. "My mother,—my poor mother!" exclaimed Jack.
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