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. Your name?" "Owen Wood," replied the carpenter; "I've no reason to be ashamed of it. Ennison stood by her side. “To be an actress,” he said, “you require a special and peculiar temperament. I was engaged to dine with your sister and her husband, and I sent a wire. “Of course you don’t.
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