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A smile flickered upon her lips as she glanced towards Brendon, who was very serious indeed. ’ A faint smile crossed Gerald’s lips. . A widow for the fourth time, Mrs. Somewhere in the world would be his people, perhaps his mother; and it might soften the bitterness, of the return to consciousness if he found a woman at his bedside. His progress, however, was checked by loud acclamations, announcing the arrival of the Master of the Mint and his train. Critically, she stared at her own features. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. It began as a joke. I dare say anything seemed better to her than the nun’s habit she had been obliged to use.
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