"But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. And here you are!” Her aunt opened all the fingers of her gloved hand in a rhetorical gesture. He touched it again, and this time it was not withdrawn. After listening attentively for a short time without drawing breath, he became convinced that his apprehensions were groundless, and, greatly relieved, sat down upon the chair to rest himself and prepare for further efforts. But I'll never part with your irons.
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