One morning he caught her hand suddenly and kissed it. He gently took the roses from her and laid them on the pillow. “Thank you. ‘How could you? No wonder mademoiselle is angry with you. Wood, despair will come over me; and, dear as this babe is to me, far dearer than my own wretched life, which I would lay down for him any minute, I have prayed to Heaven to remove him, rather than he should grow up to be a man, and be exposed to his father's temptations—rather than he should live as wickedly and die as disgracefully as his father. "Oh God! she is dying," exclaimed Jack in a voice suffocated by emotion.
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