My thanks, by the by. ’ A sudden thought brought a frown to her brow. She was in a very uncritical state that afternoon. . Her eyes glistened in the darkness—for light was only admitted through a small grated window—like flames, and, as she fixed them on him, their glances seemed to penetrate his very soul. “Did you—did you really think that they would take you for a Frenchman?” she exclaimed. She took it up in her many-ringed hands and read it judicially. Melusine, starved of colour for years, revelled in it. The wind blew in fitful gusts, and scattered the yellow leaves from the elms and horse-chestnuts. "You hear that," cried Mrs. gutenberg.
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