But she does not resemble you in any other way. “And besides,” said Ann Veronica, sweeping that aspect aside, “what could I do? A boy sails out into a trade or profession. “I would have given up anything to see you your old self again—as you are this evening. "Was there any other woman back there in the States?" "Nary a female. Without realizing what she has done, she's made a dreadful mess of it. The spirit I drink may be poison,—it may kill me,—perhaps it is killing me:—but so would hunger, cold, misery,—so would my own thoughts. "Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct.
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