" "Ay—ay," laughed Jonathan. ” “I know. 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 saw, twenty yards down the platform, the shiny hat and broad back and inimitable swagger of Ramage. ‘Always he is busy about my affairs. He became a little more personal and intimate. Please to release me. She had thought it a mirror, because it was her.
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