“They should never be separated,” murmured the poor gentleman, timidly, as if speaking to himself.
“They shall not be, if I can help it,” replied Alexander who had read with approval the letter of recommendation contained in Meg’s face.
They drove rapidly up Bushe Lane, through Black street, and up Blackfriars’ road. But little conversation was carried on until they reached the Strand.
When drawing near to Wellington street, where Everage lived, he said.
“But you will not take the child to his mother this afternoon?”
“Certainly,” replied Alexander.
“What—now, immediately?”
“Yes.”
“Will not the shock be too great?”
“No; I have heard that she is almost morbid on the subject, and is constantly looking for the child, and expecting to find him, or to have him brought home to her. I also had a sort of conviction that I should have the happiness of finding him and carrying him as a peace-offering to his mother. It was a very remarkable presentiment, I think.”