" "You're a noble-hearted little fellow, Thames," rejoined Wood, casting a look of pride and affection at his adopted son, whose head he gently patted; "and give promise of a glorious manhood. "Close the court, Mr. His noble Florentine roots went back a thousand years, to the days of grand Rome herself. . Do you know anything of his friends? Is there any one for whom we ought to send?” “I know very little of him beyond his name,” Anna answered. And tell Pottiswick to mend that lock we broke. " In spite of her displeasure, Winifred could not help smiling at the absurdity of this address. Wood made no reply; but, hastily kissing his weeping daughter, and bidding her be of good cheer, hurried off. “You are coming in, aren’t you, Sydney?” “If I may,” he answered.
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