’ Gerald hissed in a doubtful breath. 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. You're luck. Has he given you the tools?" "He has," replied Bess, producing the handkerchief. Fine woman, Lady Trafford—a little on the wane though. I don’t know what has come over me. S. But he died when he was a child—long ago—long ago—long ago. The angels in Heaven shall not tear you from me. ’ At that, a flush drenched her cheeks and she snatched her hand away.
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