"Your servant, Sir Rowland," said the stranger, ducking his head, as he advanced. . 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. ‘The place was full of barbers and military men. In the little apartment, under the gas chandelier, his inches and his stoop were certainly very effective. “Bless you, sweetheart. ’ ‘He let them go?’ asked Miss Froxfield incredulously. They walked in silence.
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