"Your son," replied Jack,—"your miserable, repentant son. " "Ah, yes; that coat. " "Then you will stay!" she cried, clapping her hands joyfully, "for I'm sure he won't part with you. " "Save us!" exclaimed Wood. For that worthless father of yours—’ Melusine let go the hand only so that she might throw her own hands in the air. “You are Sir John Ferringhall,” she repeated. "Evidently he could not destroy these children of his. Our quarrel's quite over. " "I can get him aboard all right. "God forgive me for using such a word!" he cried, in a troubled tone; "if I hadn't yielded to my wife's silly request, this wouldn't have happened!" CHAPTER VII.
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