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. ‘What in the world is that?’ demanded Miss Froxfield. “To the young man himself,” he answered, “no! I simply object to his calling here two or three times a week during my absence. "At length, I have my wish," continued Mrs.
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