Here the old woman at the fire, who has been getting up and down from her three-legged stool during the past few minutes, and sniffing at the pot in an anxious manner, gives way to a loud sigh of relief. Lifting the pot from its crook, she lays it on the earthen floor.,
"I felt nothing, nothing, but the one thing that I was powerless to help you," says Mona, passionately; "that was bitter.",
"Thanks, dear; you are always good," murmurs Lady Rodney, who has ever an eye to the main chance..
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