A fever of shame ran through her being. It's mighty lonesome down there for a man bred to cities. A few steps brought him to the door of the vault in which his mother was immured. When I am leading a true life, a pure and simple life free of all stimulants and excitements, I think—I think— oh! with pellucid clearness; but if I so much as take a mouthful of meat—or anything—the mirror is all blurred. The general did what he might to hush it up, and paid handsomely to manage it, I daresay. Nor, indeed, did she want to refuse.
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