"Do you mean to say that if I support your kid, I shan't bring him up how I please—eh?" "Don't question me, but leave me," replied the widow wildly; "you had better. ‘Not but what it was near that before Jarvis died. The weather harmonized with their feelings. ” Anna shook hands with Brendon—a young man also, but older and more selfpossessed than Sydney Courtlaw. The girl stood with her hands behind her back, sulky, resolute, and intelligent, a strand of her black hair over one eye and looking more than usually delicate-featured, and more than ever like an obdurate child. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home. She pushed.
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