Wood!" exclaimed Jack, in surprise. " "Who told you this is his portrait?" demanded Trenchard. She looked down at him and saw that the sunlight was gleaming from his cheeks, and that all over his cheeks was a fine golden down of delicate hairs. ’ She was silent for a space, and it was evident that this part of the story was still too painful to be recalled with ease. " "And you expect me to believe you after what has passed?" "I do; and, more than that, I expect you to thank me. She was by his side. “And yet you still live, Butterfly. ’ ‘What, a common soldier?’ ‘He was not a common soldier. His course, however, was no longer interrupted, and he crept on. "What do you mean by that, sirrah?" cried Wood, reddening with anger. Now the baby’s bright May eyes peered up at her intently.
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