With no misgiving thought or doubt

Her fond arms clasped his child about

In the full mantle of her love;

For who so loves the darling flowers

Must love the bloom of human bowers,

The types of brightest things above.

One day--one sunny winter day--

She pressed it to her tender breast;

The sunshine of its head there lay

As pillowed on its native rest.

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--Thomas Buchanan Reed.

Lady Hurstmonceux and Hannah Worth sat opposite each other in silence.

The lady with her eyes fixed thoughtfully on the floor--Hannah waiting

for the visitor to disclose the object of her visit.

Reuben Gray had retired to the farthest end of the room, in delicate

respect to the lady; but finding that she continued silent, it at last

dawned upon his mind that his absence was desirable. So he came forward

with awkward courtesy, saying: "Hannah, I think the lady would like to be alone with you; so I will bid

you good-day, and come again to-morrow."

"Very well, Reuben," was all that the woman could answer in the presence

of a third person.

And after shaking Hannah's hand, and pulling his forelock to the

visitor, the man went away.

As soon as he was clearly gone the countess turned to the weaver and

said: "Hannah--your name is Hannah, I think?"

"Yes, madam."

"Well, Hannah, I have come to thank you for your tender care of my son,

and to relieve you of him!" said the countess.

"Madam!" exclaimed the amazed woman, staring point-blank at the visitor.

"Why, what is the matter, girl? What have I said that you should glare

at me in that way?" petulantly demanded the lady.

"Madam, you astonish me! Your son is not here. I know nothing about your

son; not even that you had a son," replied Hannah.

"Oh, I see," said the lady, with a faint smile; "you are angry because I

have left him on your hands so many days. That is pardonable in you.

But, you see, my girl, it was not my fault. I never even heard of the

little fellow's existence until late last night. I could not sleep for

thinking of him. And I came here as soon as I had had my breakfast."

"Madam, can a lady have a son and not know it?" exclaimed Hannah, her

amazement fast rising to alarm, for she was beginning to suppose her

visitor a maniac escaped from Bedlam.

"Nonsense, Hannah; do not be so hard to propitiate, my good woman! I

have explained to you how it happened! I came as soon as I could! I am

willing to reward you liberally for all the trouble you have had with

him. So now show me my son, there's a good soul."




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