"Mother!" she echoed,—"mother! why do you call me by that name?" "Because you are my mother. Give him his medicine every half hour. But it is not your name. Place a pistol at my ear, and shoot me, if I've told you false. It was fortunate that by this time Winifred had so far recovered, as to be able to afford her father the best and only solace that, under the circumstances, he could have received,—her personal attentions. , and munched a roll and butter with hearty appetite. .
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