Oh, the beautiful books! Romance, adventure, love stories! She gathered up the books in her arms and cuddled them, as a mother might have cuddled a child. At least, he would always be able to take care of Ruth. And he liked her. Yon must be mine to-night. The new and the old cancelled out; his daughters became quasi-independent dependents—which is absurd. At no time did she feel bodily or mental fatigue. " The poor widow hung her head, and pressed her child closer to her breast. He had changed her life dramatically, and she had missed him dreadfully. "Come to my arms, Thames! Oh! dear! Oh! dear!" To repeat the questions and congratulations which now ensued, or describe the extravagant joy of the carpenter, who, after he had hugged his adopted son to his breast with such warmth as almost to squeeze the breath from his body, capered around the room, threw his wig into the empty fire-grate, and committed various other fantastic actions, in order to get rid of his superfluous satisfaction—to describe the scarcely less extravagant raptures of his spouse, or the more subdued, but not less heartfelt delight of Winifred, would be a needless task, as it must occur to every one's imagination. That was something in his favour.
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