" "And I trust you will never have occasion to weep again, my poor soul," replied Wood, setting down his lantern, and brushing a few drops from his eyes, "unless it be tears of joy. ” He said nothing for a space. " "Don't anger him, my dear son," implored the poor widow, with a look of anguish at Jack. Never had he corrected her with hand or whip, the ring in his voice had always been sufficient to cower her. ‘Oh, dearie me, I wish I’d never told you anything about it,’ lamented the nun, moving to the only chair the vestry possessed and sinking down into it. “May I be allowed to say,” he declared, “that I came here with the same intention.
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