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"I can't tell you!" she replied, blushing deeply, and clinching her little hand as tightly as possible; "it's a secret!" "I'll soon find it out, then," he returned, playfully forcing the paper from her grasp. " "Oh, dear! how I should like to see him. I thought if you were living, and not captured, I should find you here,—and I was right. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them. Gladstone would have to a carelessly displayed interior on a dissecting-room table. “Oh, I am lonely,” she moaned. Quick, now. ‘You, Mademoiselle Charvill, are as unlike most of your sex as you can be.
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