’ Kimble’s widening gaze told its own tale, but still he kept his fingers on the handle of the door. The trees were graceful and brown, arching and fanning their golden leaves as if to shower with coins the pink-gold sky. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. ‘Beg your pardon, ma’am, but she’s enough to try the patience of a saint. “Would YOU like us—if some one told you the bare outline of our story?— and what we are doing?” “I shouldn’t mind,” said Ann Veronica.
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