"There's an old proverb," continued Wood, rising and walking towards the fire, "which says,—'Put another man's child in your bosom, and he'll creep out at your elbow. " "It is too late," returned Jack, sullenly; "I can't be honest if I would. "Goodness only knows what he's reserved for," rejoined the widow in a desponding tone; "but if Mynheer Van Galgebrok, whom I met last night at the Cross Shovels, spoke the truth, little Jack will never die in his bed. He looked up to see an ancient coach making its ponderous way down the street. It shall be the bludgeon. Seeing the footman about to follow her in, Gerald clamped a hand onto his shoulder. ” She said. ” She stirred gently in her chair.
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