"She has flown up stairs," replied the widow. Yes!" she screamed, "these are his father's features! It is—it is my son!" "Mother!" cried Thames; "are you, indeed, my mother?" "I am, indeed—my own sweet boy!" she sobbed, pressing him tenderly to her breast. “Splendid it must be to be a composer. Anna sprang to her feet with a startled cry. His voice had broken. ” Lucy said. At the Palazzo she had been confined to her own sunny windowed quarters most of the time, but she had the entire run of the inside of the manor.
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