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"Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened. Who could say that the girl's father had not once been a fashionable clergyman in the States and that drink had got him and forced him down, step by step, until—to use the child's odd expression—he had come upon the beach? She was cynical, this spinster. Things were thrown here and there, to be taken up, or again cast aside, as the whim arose; while the broken-backed chairs and crazy table bore the marks of many a conflict. Sheppard, passing her hand across her brow; "but my memory is gone—quite gone. It was supposed he was drowned in crossing the river, as his body had never been found.
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