‘Don’t try to turn it off,’ ordered Miss Froxfield. But if his frame was immature, his looks were not so. “Dear friend,” she said, “this is a matter which you must leave to me to do as I think best. Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. Then they dressed her in a dirty dress of coarse serge and a cap, and took away her own clothes. "You will finish your education in the East and return. Maggot, dealing him a buffet that sent him reeling several yards backwards. "You see?" Ruth said.
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