"Only, what you have done is out of all human calculation. I'll be with you in a jiffy. She threw out a hand to stop herself from cannoning into them and, losing balance, tripped over her own petticoats and fell to the carpeted floor, her hat falling off as she did so. She walked over to them still carrying the trousers in her hands, and stooped to examine them. One nail drives out another, it's true; but the worst nail you can employ is a coffin-nail. "And now," she added, with somewhat more composure, "leave me, dear friends, I entreat, for a few minutes to collect my scattered thoughts—to prepare myself for what I have to go through—to pray for my son. That dress! Only a man—and an unworldly one—would have permitted you to proceed on your adventure dressed in a gown thirty years out of date. Fly! fly!" "Do not think of me, mother, but of yourself," cried Jack, in an agony of tears. "But, I half suspect, of your father.
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