"My mother!—my poor mother!" ejaculated Thames, falling on his knees, and bursting into tears. The air was sweet with the perfume of flowers, and the melody of murmuring insects, the blue sky was cloudless, the heat of the sun was tempered by the heather-scented west wind. Quite ordinary. "Bury her in Willesden churchyard, as she requested, on Sunday," said Jack. They agreed that they must marry at once, this morning, before the doctor could suspect what was toward. Both arm-chairs had been moved a little so as to face each other on either side of the fender, and in the circular glow of the green-shaded lamp there lay, conspicuously waiting, a thick bundle of blue and white papers tied with pink tape.
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