’ ‘Lord,’ Gerald murmured, awed more by the outspokenness of his hostess than by what she had said. "Are you my son? Are you Jack?" "I am," replied Jack. He would pull this young fellow back; but later he knew that he would have to fight the boy's lack of will to live. ’ ‘Oh,’ Gerald uttered, disappointed. 148 “Sure. Always her prayers ended—'And may my beautiful mother guide me!' No. Left to himself, he took a survey of the room, and his heart leaped as he beheld over the, chimney-piece, a portrait of himself. His brain reeled. “You permitted me then to call you my friend. She fought the inclination for a while, then surrendered.
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