"No; it's only a fresh gale," Ben returned: "hark! now it comes. "It gladdens me to hear you talk thus, Joan," said Wood, in a voice of much emotion, while his eyes filled with tears, "and more than repays me for all I have done for you. Your laugh reminds me of—of——" "Whose, Sir?" demanded Jackson, becoming suddenly grave. Clarice loved babies as much as Lucia did and chattered about them day and night. " "You have no son," rejoined Sir Rowland, moodily. Slipshod; follow me. He did not even reply to her for several minutes.
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