Dieu du ciel, what was it? She turned slowly, listening for the direction of the sound. Suddenly a half stifled exclamation broke from Anna’s lips. “This life is killing me! Oh, it is dull, dull, dull!” Suddenly an idea seemed to strike her. Thames took it, and beheld the portrait of a young man, apparently—judging from his attire—of high rank, whose proud and patrician features certainly presented a very striking resemblance to his own. Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. “You ask me to be engaged to you, Mr. “All your dreadful scientific things?” he said, with a smile that Miss Klegg thought extraordinarily kindly. Ruth had lived in a world without caresses. Supposing she saw the young man at dinner that night, emptying his bottle? She could not go to him, sit down and draw the sordid pictures she had seen so often. ” “You haven’t answered my question.
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