" "It's mine, I'll be sworn," rejoined Wood. Come close to me, and let me hold your hand, dear. " "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. "Spare me!" he groaned, looking upwards. ’ ‘And she’d be right,’ Martha said severely. ” He spoke loudly. Stanley, in his effort to seem at ease, took entire possession of the hearthrug. "Weep on, reprobate," cried the carpenter, a little softened.
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