Sheppard, with a laugh that cut the ears of those who listened to it like a razor,—"Do not despair! And who or what shall give me comfort when my son is gone? I have wept till my eyes are dry,—suffered till my heart is broken,—prayed till the voice of prayer is dumb,—and all of no avail. He changed his mind however, and simply motioned to her to proceed. They found Ruth reading to Spurlock, whose shoulders and head were propped by pillows. "Is it indeed you, or am I dreaming?" "You're not dreaming, mother," he answered. "If you thought that, why did you give me this job?"—his voice faint and thick. She was to see Capes to-morrow, but now, in this state of misery she had achieved, she felt assured he would turn his back upon her, take no notice of her at all. But I do not even care if I am absurd. Her tone was icy. All the money he earned—serving McClintock and the muse—could be laid away. I'm glad of it, I'm sure; for it's all owing to him his poor mother's here. "My sister the wife of one condemned felon! the parent of another! It cannot be. Accounts were now always where he could put his hand on them.
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