“And so you have been thinking?” her father began, quoting her letter and looking over his slanting glasses at her. All other things were without weight or consequence before the fact that this poor young man would have to depend upon her for his life. She peered into the darkness. Shall I sew it on for you?" "If you wish. ” “He would have been dead before now without it,” the doctor answered shortly. 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.
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