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“You poor child!” he said; “don’t you see the infinite folly of these proceedings? Think! Think of the love and affection you abandon! Think of your aunt, a second mother to you. She didn’t know anything more about your mom. Raven locks fell to her shoulders from under the feathered beaver hat, and curled away down her back. ’ Your name alone would fill any music hall in London. “If only I could afford another!” she thought regretfully. '" "'This be the verse you grave for me: Here he lies where he longed to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea. But her mind was ruffled, and its mirror-like surface of satisfaction was not easily restored.
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