"My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. "Well, you never can tell," he continued, lamely. A very familiar face emerged from a crowd at the impromptu bar on the kitchen island. Her thought spoke aloud. "Who is it?" "He didn't give his name, Sir," replied the maid; "but he's a young gentleman. Besides," added he, opening the shawl in which the infant was wrapped, and throwing the light of the candle full upon its sickly, but placid features, "it's sinful to repine while you've a child like this to comfort you. ‘I know, Melusine. Is Jack what Mrs. ’ Jack Kimble took a deep breath. Under this unnerving scrutiny, a slow flush mounted to the woman’s cheeks.
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