“Dear me! I wonder where Sir John picked her up. He flung himself backwards, hit the dais and fell heavily before the altar, losing his low-crowned beaver. But ere the words could find utterance, her maternal tenderness overcame her indignation; and, sinking upon her knees, she extended her arms over her child. Nobody ever called me John, that I recollect. In a little while he and she were talking quite easily and agreeably. " "Well, it's mighty fine of you to break your journey in this fashion—for someone you don't know, a passer-by. ” She peered at him through the semi-blackness. I can’t explain—” They regarded one another, each blinded to the other.
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