That was an admission all right. Her knees almost sank beneath her as she raised the latch of the front door and looked out. Once she stopped in front of a mirror and looked at herself thoughtfully. “Never mind. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. But Gerald took it for the routine interest in an eligible bachelor, although he was aware many females had an eye for scarlet regimentals. During the narration Jack's features lighted up, and an expression, which would have been in vain looked for in repose, was instantly caught and depicted by the skilful artist.
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