"Gracious Heaven!—is she the inmate of a mad-house?" "She is, Sir," answered the woollen-draper, sadly, "driven there by her son's misconduct. He was smiling under his heavy mustache, and his head was a little on one side as he looked at her. Hearing the spring touched, he dashed through on the instant, and struck down the person who presented himself, with his bludgeon. I asked him—to take me away. He stepped out but, rather to his surprise, found Melusine following him. He took a handful of almonds and raisins that she held out to him—for both these young people had given up the practice of going out for luncheon—and kept her hand for a moment to kiss her finger-tips. “We are so interested to hear, Miss Pellissier,” she said, “that you have been living in Paris.
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