And guard against your passionate nature, child--and pray to be forgiven.

My son, O my son!" Here, with a burst of tears which she could no longer control, the little woman threw herself on the neck of her eldest-born; whilst Harry, laying the hanger down, went up very feebly to Mr.Ward, and said, "Indeed, I ask your pardon, sir.

I couldn't help it; on my honour I couldn't; nor bear to see my brother struck." The widow was scared, as after her embrace she looked up at George's pale face.

In reply to her eager caresses, he coldly kissed her on the forehead, and separated from her.

"You meant for the best, mother," he said, "and I was in the wrong.