’ ‘Will you go back there?’ asked Gerald. ” He looked at Lucy. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. She had delicate oval features, light, laughing blue eyes, a pretty nez retroussé, (why have we not the term, since we have the best specimens of the feature?) teeth of pearly whiteness, and a brilliant complexion, set off by rich auburn hair, a very white neck and shoulders,—the latter, perhaps, a trifle too much exposed. His back was no sooner turned, than she slipped this casket into the box. Down under the incalculable selfishness of the penitent child there was the man's uneasy recollection of Judas.
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