If Mr. With a view to raise recruits for his corps, the warlike woollen-draper started for Lancashire, under the colour of a journey on business. Her eyes travelled about the room as if in appeal to the very chairs. Of course, it really signified nothing in this careless part of the world that she was travelling alone. 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. "Good gracious! so I do," exclaimed his amiable consort. “Michelle, it’s me, Lucy. Nevertheless it was overwhelming.
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