Slighted love

CHAPTER I.

A MOTHER’S CONFESSION.

Italy Vale! When you heard her name you associated it with blue skies, with orange-groves, and rippling streams; when you saw her face you thought of music and poetry and flowers; of dusky pansies like her somber eyes; of pale-pink roses like her cheeks; of scarlet geraniums like her lips; of young palm-trees that were not more graceful than h...