A wild passion of shame and self-disgust swept over her. His face turned a dark crimson. I am so much obliged to you for your projected benevolence. “I want to know who you are. Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. "You will not make it valueless in my eyes," he added, catching her in his arms, and pressing her to his breast. “You have even her name.
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