“Dear me,” she said, “I fancy you exaggerate my fame. If you talk of your faults, I shall talk of your splendors. "Have nine years so changed me, that there is no trace left of your adopted son?" "God bless me!" ejaculated the carpenter, rubbing his eyes, "can—can it be?" "Surely," screamed Mrs. Blest with a fond husband, surrounded by every comfort, you have never been assailed by the horrible temptations to which misery has exposed me. Then came the shock of the knowledge that soon he would be going upon his way, that there would be no one to depend upon her; and all the old loneliness came smothering down upon her again. They mean something. She looked steadfastly out. A gust of irrational impatience blew through her being. Kneebone, then, sat down to await the arrival of his expected guest. His tongue was more ready, his wit more keen than usual.
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