I know now that I was mistaken. But she was disappointed. “But I still think of my old foster brothers and sisters. “You found the cabochon? After all these years?” He asked, incredulous. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. And, in spite of the boy's resistance, he plunged his hands into his pockets, and drew forth the miniature.
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