She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. “H’m!” he said, regarding the wreckage with a calmer visage. Said Prudence, with commendable human kindness: "My sister and I are going on to Shanghai and Peking. Yet in some hidden corner was a vein of sentiment, of which for the first time in his later life he was now unexpectedly aware. “You certainly are. He was not quite sure whether, after all, he had been wise.
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