All the turnkeys were assembled. ” “Come, Molly,” said Mr. . It was his mother, and as he gazed on her pallid features and motionless frame, Jack's heart severely smote him. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. Yes, yes, there is no doubt about it. The fates are never so kind to me. I believe it amused him. He refused his food,—and even when better provisions were offered him, rejected them. It could not be a legal marriage. We may meet—who can tell? But I will not be fettered, even though you would make the chains of roses.
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