"Hear me!" cried Thames, bursting into tears. Would it be Thérèse?’ She shook her head. It was impulsive and natural. If only you knew what this means to me!" "We do, lad," replied McClintock, gravely. " "It was the knowledge of this feeling on your part, my love, that made me act without your express sanction. The young lady with whom I was dining last night was Miss Anna Pellissier. Listen, it is I. It takes too many years to climb even a step in the social ladder. Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. "There's nothing in his clothes. Nothing was given away, and no one came so rich to the stall as to command all that it had to offer. But I don’t wish to hear that abomination on her lips again. '" "Let me see," cried Jack, snatching the paper, and eagerly perusing the advertisement. ‘Ah, grandpére. I came to the Beck’s house.
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