She never expected to get her ladyship home alive. 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. " "My mind's made up," rejoined Jack, coldly,—"we part to-night. “You have put all your life in my hands,” he declared. Sheppard. "And so, you really suspected me?" murmured Mrs.
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