’ Gerald frowned. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. Very dark, like yours, ma’am. He had his sections of the Siegfried map folded in his pocket, and he squatted up with his legs crossed like an Indian idol while she lay prone beside him and followed every movement of his indicatory finger. "Is this a season to speak on such a subject?" "Perhaps not," rejoined the woollen-draper; "but the uncontrollable violence of my passion must plead my excuse. ‘Her purpose, if you will believe me, is to get herself a dowry so that she may marry an Englishman. No, none at all. Immediately beneath her lay Willesden,—the most charming and secluded village in the neighbourhood of the metropolis—with its scattered farm-houses, its noble granges, and its old grey church-tower just peeping above a grove of rook-haunted trees. “My dear child,” he said, “with me you need have no apprehension. And yet she knew it was not fair to call her a foolish girl.
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