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" "That likeness is the chief cause of my misery," replied the widow, shuddering. " "But I'm used to that, Hoddy," she said, eagerly. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. I see that I am a beast—I beg your pardon, bête—and an imbecile, and an idiot. Ralph. " "You do not remember me, I dare say," observed the stranger. Crossing several fields, newly mown, or filled with lines of tedded hay, she arrived, not without great exertion, at the summit of a hill. ’ He held out his hand to help the girl descend.
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