She held it down with the poker, looking nervously over her shoulder. Sheppard remained dissolved in tears. " "Mine is Howard Spurlock. “Are you a special sort of clergyman,” she said, after a pause, and looking down her nose at him, “or do you go to the Universities?” “Oh!” he said, profoundly. "I understand," replied the stranger, unable to repress a smile. So absorbed was she by her passionate supplications that she was insensible to anything passing around her, until she felt a touch upon her shoulder, and heard a well-known voice breathe in her ear—"Mother!" She started at the sound as if an apparition had called her, screamed, and fell into her son's outstretched arms. “You!” she exclaimed. . Then the storm broke. Perhaps it was loneliness.
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