"Swear that you will always love me, that you will never be ashamed of
me when my hands are blackened!"

"If I shall love you, my Jack!"

Her only answer was to cover him with kisses, hiding her agitation and
her remorse under her passionate embraces; but from that moment the
wretched woman knew remorse, knew it for the rest of her life; and could
never think of her child without feeling a stab in her heart.

He however, as though he understood all the shame, uncertainty, and
terror concealed under these caresses, dashed towards the stairs, to
avoid dwelling on it.

"Come, mamma, let us go down. I am going to tell him I accept his
offer."

Down-stairs the "Failures" were still at table. They were all struck by
the grave and determined look on Jack's face.

"I beg your pardon," he said to D'Argenton. "I did wrong in refusing
your proposal. I now accept it, and thank you."

THE CITY OF IRON AND FIRE

From 'Jack'

The singer rose and stood upright in the boat, in which he and the child
were crossing the Loire a little above Paimboeuf, and with a wide
sweeping gesture of the arms, as if he would have clasped the river
within them, exclaimed:--

"Look at that, old boy; is not that grand?"

Notwithstanding the touch of grotesqueness and commonplace in the
actor's admiration, it was well justified by the splendid landscape
unrolling before their eyes.

It was about four o'clock in the afternoon. A July sun, a sun of melting
silver, spread a long luminous pathway of rays upon the waters. In the
air was a tremulous reverberation, a mist of light, through which
appeared the gleaming light of the river, active and silent, flashing
upon the sight with the rapidity of a mirage. Dimly seen sails high in
the air, which in this dazzling hour seem pale as flax, pass in the
distance as if in flight. They were great barges coming from
Noirmoutiers, laden to the very edge with white salt sparkling all over
with shining spangles, and worked by picturesque crews; men with the
great three-cornered hat of the Breton salt-worker, and women whose
great cushioned caps with butterfly wings were as white and glittering
as the salt. Then there were coasting vessels like floating drays, their
decks piled with sacks of flour and casks; tugs dragging interminable
lines of barges, or perhaps some three-master of Nantes arriving from
the other side of the world, returning to the native land after two
years' absence, and moving up