Chapter 29 ADA'S SOLITARY BREAKFAST.

My tortured soul is sick, and every nerve

Answers its promptings with an aching strain,

Yet from my task I may not pause or swerve-

Rest is a curse, and every thought a pain.

For the first time since her husband's death, Ada slept soundly, till deep in the morning. But her slumber was haunted by dreams that sent shadows painful and deat