” Lucy replied. At the same time,” she added, in a suddenly altered tone, “it isn’t anything whatever to do with you, is it?” “Why not?” he answered. 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. She observed a man walking on the opposite side of the way and looking toward her. “Please forgive me. "The youth whom you delivered to Van Galgebrok,—Thames Darrell, is returned.
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