He dropped in his chair, and covering his face, burst into those terrible sobs that shake and rend a strong man.
Lady O'More hovered over him, weeping.
"Umph! Looks pretty fair for Freckles," muttered the Angel.

"Lots of things can be explained; now perhaps they can explain this." They did explain so satisfactorily that in a few minutes the Angel was on her feet, hurrying Lord and Lady O'More to reach the hospital.

"You said Freckles' old nurse knew his mother's picture instantly," said the Angel.

"I want that picture and the bundle of little clothes." Lady O'More gave them into her hands.
The likeness was a large miniature, painted on ivory, with a frame of beaten gold.

Surrounded by masses of dark hair was a delicately cut face.