I am going to help take care of him," said Ruth, quite ordinarily, as though taking care of unknown derelicts was an ordinary event in her life. It was her past now, not Annabel’s. It is a lovely little appendage to the mother who smiles over it, and it does things quaintly like her, gestures with her very gestures. Perhaps if I had watched over her more closely, things would have been different. " The doctor did not reply to this rather ambiguous statement, but pushed back his chair and signed to McClintock to follow. Yet I think that he will do it. 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. He had now reached what was called the Lower Leads,—a flat, covering a part of the prison contiguous to the gateway, and surrounded on all sides by walls about fourteen feet high. "Time to dress for dinner," said Ruth from behind the curtain. Together they crept through the erstwhile drawing room and entered the massive flagged hall. Where her husband saw only two youngsters in the mating mood, she felt that tragedy in some phase lurked in this room—if only in the loneliness of these two, without kith or kin apparently, thousands of miles from home.
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