She had suddenly become as the jewels of the Madonna, as the idol's eye, infinitely beyond his reach, sacred. Wood and Thames taking their places on either side of it, and Jack at a little distance behind. Our ideal had fallen. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. " "Sit down, my dear, sit down," interposed Mrs.
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