Get out your pad and pencil. “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. ’ ‘Entertained, he says!’ ‘Intrigued, then,’ amended Gerald equably, although truth to tell he was enjoying the mystery enormously. I’d rather not go,” she added. They would suffer amazing hardships to hunt the snow-leopard; but in the Temple of Five Hundred Gods they would not take the trouble to ask the name of one! But this girl, she was alone. That is what I’ve had on my conscience. “Sure, I guess so.
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