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"That'll teach you to keep a civil tongue in your head for the future," observed Thames, as he helped Jack to his feet. She was perhaps as near tears as ever before in her life. On this side was a razor with which a son had murdered his father; the blade notched, the haft crusted with blood: on that, a bar of iron, bent, and partly broken, with which a husband had beaten out his wife's brains. But, when I look upon his innocent face, and see how like he is to his father,—when I think of that father's shameful ending, and recollect how free from guilt he once was,—at such times, Mr. . As he looked in this direction, Wild gave him a significant wink, the meaning of which he was not slow to comprehend. "Mrs. ’ ‘You need not be a nun,’ he said, leaning towards her. Wood's anxiety grew so insupportable, that he seized his hat with the intention of sallying forth in search of them, though he did not know whither to bend his steps, when his departure was arrested by a gentle knock at the door. "Now, tell me why they brought you here?" "I came to see you, dear mother!" answered Jack. Conceiving himself called upon, as the intimate friend of the deceased, to pay this last tribute of respect to her memory, he appeared as one of the chief mourners.
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