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. We are off for a second honeymoon. A constant attendant at court, he had the mortification to see every one promoted but himself, and thus bewails his ill-luck. You must live for me.
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