"If I had, you'd not have seen me here," replied Jack, sullenly. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. It was still possible the child might be in safety. "Heaven be praised she knows me at last. ” “The life of a young girl is set about with prowling pitfalls, from which she must be shielded at all costs. Winifred screamed. Warm life was behind that always, even if it slept. But I must—I ought—” “I MUST talk about this. Then, even as they stood there, the room was plunged into darkness. .
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