Mother—dear mother!" he added, clasping her in his arms, "Look at me again. Nothing has gone wrong here?" "Nothing whatever," replied Ireton. It was exactly as Sebastian had foreseen. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. Supposing you take them and read them? You might be able to tell me why I felt disappointed. She looked round wildly, as if seeking some source of help, as the boots halted at the front door and the shouting intensified.
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