Chapter IX BRENDON’S LUCK Anna sat in a chair in her room and sighed. You have a daughter, no? Madame Ibstock, I think. She felt her canines growing. "But if it is thy will to take me from him," she continued, as soon as her emotion permitted her,—"if he must be left an orphan amid strangers, implant, I beseech thee, a mother's feelings in some other bosom, and raise up a friend, who shall be to him what I would have been. “I’m going for a long tramp, auntie,” she said. That’s why I come to tell you.
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