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The aunt rushed over to her nephew, knelt and wrapped him in her arms. "You have both," replied Wood, fervently. Everywhere I went and rapped at a door I found behind it another dreadful dingy woman—another fallen queen, I suppose— dingier than the last, dirty, you know, in grain. “Well, you have thought it over?” he said, sitting down beside her. He had been the one to dress her in the finest silks and brocades, and here she was, displayed for the world to see in 248 drugstore makeup and the uniform of an old schoolteacher.
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