But they were old enough to start remembering you as mother, and we cannot have that. Opening a pair of large black eyes, the child fixed them for an instant upon Wood, and then, alarmed by the light, uttered a low and melancholy cry, which, however, was speedily stilled by the caresses of his mother, towards whom he extended his tiny arms, as if imploring protection. “The first person you love, Ann Veronica, is yourself—get hold of that! The soul you have to save is Ann Veronica’s soul. Anyhow, it were me as got you down to the wetnurse. Evidently her foresight has saved me a funeral.
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