” He said admiringly. ” “I am your friend,” he said slowly, “whatever you may have to tell me. “Can you not understand? It is of no use your taking my identity and all the burden of my iniquities upon your dear shoulders if I am to be recognized the moment I show my face in London. " "My poor son!" groaned the widow, sinking backwards. There was a time, long, long ago, when the tears would have rushed to my eyes unbidden at the bare mention of generosity like yours, Mr. " "Aliva Trenchard!" exclaimed Mrs. Wood," said Jonathan, advancing towards him, and speaking in a low tone, "the secret of your adopted son's birth is known to me. E.
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