on his terrified features with a look in which exhaustion and an exceeding wanness of complexion were even horribly contrasted by the glare and energy of delirium.
"If you are like him," she muttered, "I will strangle you,—I will!—ay—tremble! you ought to tremble, when your mother touches you, or when he is mentioned. You have his eyes,—you have! Out with them, out!—the Devil sits laughing in them! Oh! you weep, do you, little one! Well now, be still, my love,—be hushed! I would not harm thee! harm—O God, he is my child after all!"—and at these words she clasped the boy passionately to her breast, and burst into tears!
"Coom now, coom!" said Dummie soothingly. "Take the stuff, Judith, and then ve'll talk hover the hurchin!"
The mother relaxed her grasp of the boy, and turning towards the speaker, gazed at him for some moments with a bewildered stare: at length she appeared slowly to remember him, and said, as she raised herself on one hand, and pointed the other towards him with an inquiring gesture—
