” He began. You mustn't go by what you read so much as by what you see and hear. Of this boy she had only caught a glimpse;—but that glimpse was sufficient to satisfy her it was her son,—and, if she could have questioned her own instinctive love, she could not question her antipathy, when she beheld, partly concealed by a pillar immediately in the rear of the woollen-draper, the dark figure and truculent features of Jonathan Wild. If the boy had done anything wrong back there in the States, his would be the brand of conscience to pay him out in full. Lucy had caught it when it was a millimeter away from hitting her teeth. Would to God I had. He uttered a short laugh. But the possible attitude of her father she had still to face. ‘Oh, I do love a flatterer. And experience was slow in coming. .
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