” “I understand,” he said, doggedly. ’ ‘From a convent? Even if I wished to do it, I could not. But this calm was more awful than the previous roaring of the blast. He came to the door and as he opened it a crack, she pushed herself inside urgently. Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. His sword then came in for his scrutiny: he felt at, and appeared satisfied with its edge. The dream flowers and is harvested, and we are left by the wayside, having served our singular purpose in the scheme of progress: as the orange is tossed aside when sucked of its ruddy juice.
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