"Begone, wretch!" cried the mother, stung beyond endurance by his taunts; "or I will drive you hence with my curses. “I cannot reason with you,” he said at last wearily. To-night the subtle suggestiveness of those few daring lines, fascinating in their very simplicity, the head thrown back, the half-closed eyes—the inner meaning of the great artist seemed to come to him with a rush. You know the danger of this breakneck road as well as I do. Her head ached with a hollow pain. My only love is for my poor lost son. "Well," she said, in reply, "I may have done Jack an injustice. “As she asked!” “It is already too late.
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