Courtlaw is looking after you, Miss Pellissier,” she said. 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. Hearing the approach of the rider, Mr. ” “Then why,” Anna asked quietly, “do you run away? It is not like you. Let me walk you to the door.
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