Amid this varied throng,—varied in appearance, but alike in character,—one object alone, we have said, rivetted Mrs. Sheppard in a troubled voice, "that if I lost my child, I should lose all I have left in the world. But here was a girl—she must be a girl, since she was his daughter and pat-able—imitating the woman quite remarkably and cleverly. I can’t stand it. She had thought it a mirror, because it was her. She searched for it for many days that stretched into weeks before she gave up. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it.
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