“Lucy Albert, sir. " "Jack's mother?" exclaimed the young man. There was no sense in creating further difficulties for herself by arguing with the sergeant over her identity. Ah! I shall never forget the figure Jack cut on that occasion. She's my mealticket. She reflected before answering. Her first impulse was to fly to the window; and she was about to pass through it, at the risk of sharing the fate of the unfortunate lady, when her arm was grasped by some one in the act of ascending the ladder from without. " "You'd better hold your peace, my lad," observed Jonathan, in a menacing tone. He was a manly man, free from any strong maternal strain, and he had loved his dark-eyed, dainty bright-colored, and active little wife with a real vein of passion in his sentiment. He was more like a man who had left his bed in the middle of convalescence.
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