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" "Don't anger him, my dear son," implored the poor widow, with a look of anguish at Jack. " Sir Rowland, meantime, throw himself on his knees beside his sister, and, clasping her chilly fingers within his own, besought her forgiveness in the most passionate terms. "I find I was in error. She leaned forward, her chin in her palms, her elbows on her knees, and she set her gaze upon his face and kept it there in dreamy contemplation. As far as I recollect, there were two. Opening the door, he found it littered with straw, on which he threw himself, and instantly fell asleep.
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