Her companion was a portly handsome man, also dressed in a full suit of the deepest mourning, with the finest of lace at his bosom and wrists, and a sword in a black sheath by his side. “Lady Mackinnor,” she said, “I am sure that you must have heard of Mr. “No, I am alone,” she answered. It was 1582. " "Stand out of earshot," rejoined his leader. ” “Go ahead. A faint, delightfully humorous smile parted her lips. 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. Remember, some day you and I are going to have that book.
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