This historic book may have numerous typos and missing text. Purchasers can download a free scanned copy of the original book (without typos) from the publisher. Not indexed. Not illustrated. 1855. Excerpt: ... ing for h'a while," she said with a sad, kind smile, as she pressed my hand within both her own, then quickly turned to me the southern lady and her husband as apologizing for the interruption, they said: "Did we understand you aright, Miss Durand, in calling this--a--lady--Mrs. Gubbins?" "What!" I exclaimed, "not know Mrs. Gubbins and her guests too?" Slowly, and with a confusion and embarrassment of manner almost painful, did the southerner take the hand of the old lady, while his wife held tightly by his arm as she leaned forward with a look of anxious interest, he said: "Pardon me, madam, I understood that Gobble's and Miss Dorothy's--I should--say--rather--that I was under the impression--that--in fact--that--that Mr. Gubbins was--a--a--a widower, madam!" No tremor--no excitement was visible in that old lady's manner--as with the pallor of death on her face, through which gleamed two bright spots on either cheek, she asked, in a calm tone: "But, my son, did my son--did Gobble ever tell you so?" m And the poor southerner--how nervous, how wretched he looked, as he stammered out: "Oh! not at all, madam! I do assure you--indeed, indeed he never said anything about it--that is, (correcting himself) recently--when he first came to college, he talked of his dear mother a great deal--you see it is all quite a mistake in me--in me." Then it was that Gobble--the faithful, true son--first perceived from where he stood the unwelcome presence of his mother coming up--with the blackness of night upon his forehead--his lipe purple and quivering--he hissed in her ear and passed on. Oh! that' low, concentrated sound, as of a devil's breathing--it rings in my ear yet, and the gasping of that poor woman, as for breath or utterance, has lived in my dreams through years...