He was pretty successful in Manchester,—a town which may be said to have been the head-quarters of the disaffected. Very romantic and all that. It comes over the mountains, Anna, pink darkening into orange red, everywhere a wonderful cloud sea, scintillating with colour. His conscience, however, was entirely another affair. He walked her home. He was conscious of a peculiar pleasure in sitting there and thinking of those few hours which already were becoming to assume a definite importance in his mind—a place curiously apart from those dry-as-dust images which had become the gods of his prosaic life. "Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. ” She laughed. " "Her release would be a mercy," pursued the matron. ” She groaned aloud and bowed her forehead to her knees.
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