"Only the dog," replied the rough tones of a man. And at length her penultimate day in Morningside Park dawned for her. She got up, drew up her blind, and stared out of window at a dawn-cold vision of chimneys for a time, and then went and sat on the edge of her bed. “Neither you nor I, Nigel, are made of such stuff,” she answered. The idea of anything criminal never entered her thoughts. Wood, despair will come over me; and, dear as this babe is to me, far dearer than my own wretched life, which I would lay down for him any minute, I have prayed to Heaven to remove him, rather than he should grow up to be a man, and be exposed to his father's temptations—rather than he should live as wickedly and die as disgracefully as his father.
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