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 by the possibility at which poor Darrow's renunciation hinted. The nature of the offer removed it from practical issues to the idealizing region of sentiment.

Mrs. Peyton had been sitting alone with these thoughts for the greater part of the afternoon, and dusk was falling when Dick entered the drawing-room. In the dim light, with his pallour heightened by the sombre effect of his mourning, he came upon her almost startlingly, with a revival of some long-effaced impression which, for a moment, gave her the sense of struggling among shadows. She did not, at first, know what had produced the effect; then she saw that it was his likeness to his father.

&quot;Well—is it over?&quot; she asked, as he threw himself into a chair without speaking.

&quot;Yes: I've looked through everything.&quot; He leaned back, crossing his hands behind his head, and gazing past her with a look of utter lassitude.