” They loitered under trees, they sat on mossy banks they gossiped on friendly benches, they came back to lunch at the “Star and Garter,” and talked their afternoon away in the garden that looks out upon the crescent of the river. Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. It loves to sit on your knee. So, bloody but unbeaten, weak and spent but undaunted, he waited for the Wastrel to spring up. 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. ‘Go then. She heard the rats scattering across the stone as dirt fell into the crypt. " "An excellent maxim!" replied his wife, approvingly; "the best I ever heard you utter.
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