One might suppose him turning up; he knew a lot of clever people, and some of them might belong to the class. The image in the glass was not clear, for the light was not bright enough to see properly, but the shadows of her riding habit and the hat with its waving plumes framed a countenance that gazed serenely back at her out of long-lashed blue eyes. "Mother! dear mother!" cried Jack, folding her to his breast.
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