Her eyes were lit with mirth, the corners of her mouth quivered. Of course, it was ridiculous, this inclination to assist the fugitive, based as it was upon an intangible university idea. Her complexion was wan and faded, except where it was tinged by a slight hectic flush, that made the want of colour more palpable; her eyes were large and black, but heavy and lustreless; her cheeks sunken; her frame emaciated; her dark hair thickly scattered with gray. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. ‘And you know, my dear, I do think you must make up your mind to beard this wretched grandfather of yours.
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