" "So it seems," observed the woollen-draper, "and for every one else, too. Just as the attendants were preparing to lower the corpse into the earth, Jack fell on his knees beside the coffin, uttering the wildest exclamations of grief, reproaching himself with the murder of his mother, and invoking the vengeance of Heaven on his own head. I myself have had the pleasure of dining with her. “MY DEAR DAUGHTER,” it ran,—“Here, on the verge of the season of forgiveness I hold out a last hand to you in the hope of a reconciliation. . ‘It is in truth you?’ ‘Of course it is I.
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