’ ‘What matters it?’ cried Melusine impatiently. It rained slightly, and a thick mist gathered in the air, and obscured the beautiful prospect. The kindly faced landlady had failed to catch his name, and said he was a tall, handsome gentleman with a great black mustache. In a little while—to-morrow—all these tender, beautiful emotions will pass away, and I'll become what I was yesterday, a cynical, miserly old spinster. ” Anna stood up. She had recourse to the torn off strip of petticoat again, and blowing her nose with an air of determination, sniffed back the tears. She sat very still, and his eyes rested on that ornament for a moment, and then travelled slowly to her wrist and the soft lines of her forearm.
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