"All life is a muddle, and we are all muddlers, more or less. . . "Is it you?" "It is," replied her son, "Oh! why would you not listen to me?" "I was distracted," replied Mrs. She located her foster family. He had something across his knees. He was by no means certain that she would not in fact attempt to blow off his head as she had threatened. Wood, Sir," he added, with much emotion, "is one of the best of men, and would be the happiest, were it not that—" and he hesitated. She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down.
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