. “Oh! He’s wonderful! Isobella, you are truly blessed!” She said as she held the baby. He is Jacques. She was now permitted freely to study the face. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. "Ah!" he exclaimed, in a tone of anguish. But he has since acquitted you of any share in it.
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