The stage manager reappeared presently, and made a speech. Anything that drew attention to her must be avoided. " "Didn't the natives have a name for you?" She blushed. 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. "'Sdeath! why am I not obeyed?" exclaimed the knight, angrily. "You are a paragon of prudence and discretion," rejoined the woollen-draper, drawing his chair closer to hers. Do you see why I have hidden the terrible things from you? I chose you because you are my perfect mate. It takes too many years to climb even a step in the social ladder.
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