" The spinsters stared at her blankly. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. ‘Why, what have I said?’ ‘You said to me my name. ‘But you will not be in a convent. I hope I haven't given any unintentional offence?" said the widow, again meekly appealing to Wood. And this is not France, you understand. The thin stream of blood on which her eyes were fastened with a nameless horror reached almost to her feet.
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