. ” “Well,” Mrs. ‘And how is it that you have acquired this garb of a religieuse?’ he asked as she fitted the veil over her head. The weed was all right. "But if my career were truly exhibited, it must be as one long struggle against destiny in the shape of—" "Jonathan Wild," interposed Gay. "He stands before you," rejoined her son. A light was visible in the garret, feebly struggling through the damp atmosphere, for the night was raw and overcast. It was not a hard face, but it was resolute. . ’ She spread her hands. The wish was vain: and, endeavouring to banish every earthly thought, he addressed himself deeply and sincerely to prayer.
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