She patted John's head with her palm, its surface appealingly fuzzy. "Open my heart, Father of Mercy!" she murmured, in a humble tone, and with downcast looks, "and make me sensible of the error of my ways. ‘Who me, sir? Lor’ no, sir. Purney, the ordinary, who had latterly conceived a great regard for Jack, addressed him in a discourse, which, while it tended to keep alive his feelings of penitence, was calculated to afford him much consolation. She approached Ruth with open arms; and something in the way the child came into that kindly embrace hurt the older woman to the point of tears. Outside the post-office stood a nohatted, blond young man in gray flannels, who was elaborately affixing a stamp to a letter.
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