” “Dear me,” Anna laughed, “how unfortunate! What ought I to do? Should I be forgiven, do you think, if I were to go and hold that skein of wool for the old lady in the yellow cap?” “Don’t speak of her irreverently,” Brendon said, in an awed whisper. Some doting parent had taught him well. ” He mumbled, driving on. "Owen, Owen," pursued Mrs. “I wish,” she said, “that you would leave off looking at me as though I were something grisly. As to his mother, I've no pity for her. He was dressed with the utmost care, and he set his feet upon the broad walk as though the action were in some way a condescension. I presume that you have been living alone?” She sighed gently. "My son! my dear, dear son!" returned Mrs. Anna and her escort exchanged glances.
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