" But this difficulty was only overcome to be succeeded by one still greater. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. Since Mary predeceased Jarvis, Nicholas could scarcely argue himself to be my brother’s next of kin. ’ He sighed, spread his hands quite in her own manner, and fluttered his lashes. My natural parents both died a very long time ago and I have been on my own for a great deal of my existence. It lay undisturbed in the remotest corner of the recess. Never again would he repeat that kiss; but at night when they separated, he would touch her forehead with his lips, and sometimes he would hold her hand in his and pat it.
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