But oh, how weary I am! I know. ‘Dear me. Compared to most of America, you’re rich. Wood, whose loss I shall ever deplore. Under this unnerving scrutiny, a slow flush mounted to the woman’s cheeks. " "And, if you want an additional inducement to do so, I can tell you there's no one —not even his mother—whom he loves so well as you. What was yet more worthy of note was, that the widow's countenance had an air of refinement about it, of which it was utterly destitute before, and which seemed to intimate that her true position in society was far above that wherein accident had placed her.
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