"Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. This person—this Jonathan Wild, whom I beheld for the first time, scarcely an hour ago, in Wych Street, is—I know not why—my enemy. This one too she read. General Lord Charvill disinherited him for his pains. Do you know, Ann Veronica, it is all a lie about your birth certificate; a forgery—and fooling at that. She sat on the edge of the bed overwhelmed, the roses cradled in her arms. In fact, it had been anciently the right hand postern under the gate leading towards the city. . “Fred,” he said, “do you remember taking me to dinner at the ‘Ambassador’s,’ one evening last September, to meet a girl who was singing there? Hamilton and Drummond and his lot were with us.
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