Sheppard looked round, and exchanged kindly glances with several of those who addressed him. " "My son!" echoed the widow, trembling. Perhaps some one had kissed the brow that was now so cadaverous, rubbed that sunken cheek with loving fingers, held that stringy neck with passionately living hands. Beyond was an avenue of tall poplars that rose like columns, disappearing into undulating hills that were black with sleeping houses and fertile soil. I'm sorry. Wood having disposed of the brandy, and pronounced himself much better, hurried close to the fire-side, and informed his friend in a few words of the inhospitable treatment he had experienced from the gentlemen of the Mint; whereupon Mr. Wood fared still worse. "Whose child can this be?" "How the devil should I know!" replied Jonathan gruffly.
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