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. "I love you like a son, and will follow you like a dog. Time enough to do so when she has her affairs settled—if she can settle them. "My little fancy man's quite as fond of me as of you, Bess. ’ ‘No, and I do not wish to do so,’ Melusine pointed out. I’ve made an ally of her champion.
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