He read "The Beachcombers" to McClintock that night after coffee; and when he had done, the old trader nodded. She could visualize the picture she had presented, particularly the battered papier-mâché kitbag at her feet. “Poor old daddy! I wonder if he’ll spend much on the fatted calf?. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. ” Lucy felt herself grow feverish inside. 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. His wife's portrait had been removed from the walls, and the place it had occupied was only to be known by the cord by which it had been suspended. But he held the smile until she turned away from the curtain. Beneath two tall elms, whose boughs completely overshadowed the roof, stood Mr. Then the storm broke.
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