Will you stand by and watch me?" The contents of the trunk only thickened the fog. 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. If this is the young lady, she can perhaps calm him. Men are always doing it, and if you set up to be a man—” “No, it’s absolutely out of the question, Mr.
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