A man might be without relatives, but certainly he would not be without friends, that is to say, without letters. Edgeworth Bess wore a scarlet tabby negligée,—a sort of undress, or sack, then much in vogue,—which suited her to admiration, and upon her head had what was called a fly-cap, with richly-laced lappets. But she had spent nearly half of it, and had no conception of how such a sum could be made good again. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. The spring can't be opened on this side. She had not seen him in two and a half centuries. Listen, it is I. But I'll tell e'e what we might do——" The young man heard no more. She looked at him confusedly, his black hair glinting under the dim lights. . “What do you think of that farce?” he exclaimed bitterly. “John,” she declared, “I must eat or die. Gracious, there’s the gong.
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