He waited. Lucy simply added her own good night, even though a significant part of her wanted to call Cathy mother, she refrained. Lucy collapsed to the floor in a sob. The thought passed through his mind even as he started to cross the terrace at a jogtrot, moving to head her off. John turned toward the short staircase as she alit upon the first creaky step. Twice he cleaned the old briar; still there was no improvement. And experience was slow in coming. Perhaps my wife has already prepared you for what I wish to say. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. Hold your hand for a moment. .
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