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" "Keep it," said Trenchard, haughtily. Norris says she's dying. You were afraid of me, afraid that I should have been shocked, afraid of the scandal. I've always been more or less music-mad. Lucy felt the hairs on her neck rise. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. I wonder how it is,” she added, “that boys always make love so impertinently. ” “Let me tell you the reason you are here. ‘Do you swear it? There’s no knowing if one can believe you.
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