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. But he seized the chance to entrap her fingers, fan and all, and look deeply into her eyes. Her mouth dry, she made her feet walk on, not daring to utter a word. "Good gracious! so I do," exclaimed his amiable consort. I thought one had only to take it by the throat. " "No! I have run away from my father.
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