‘Oh, you are making a game with me. Never. Not a word was uttered for some time, nor any sound heard except the stilled sobs of the unfortunate mother. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. We have lived under the same roof, but our ways seem to have lain wide apart. Wood," said she, in the deep, hoarse accents of consumption; "and may God Almighty bless and reward you for your kindness! You were always the best of masters to my poor husband; and now you've proved the best of friends to his widow and orphan boy. Her interest grew as she read, a certain distaste disappeared.
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