"Where am I?" she cried, passing her hand across her brow. Jack paused for a moment, and found that his own adventures formed the subject of the ballad. As Melusine approached the door, she saw Kimble speed up. Even in the daylight, it had a sombre and suspicious air, and seemed to slink back from the adjoining houses, as if afraid of their society. He made it impossible not to respond, his arms tightening deliciously around hers. At first she could not tell what it was; but as her eyes became accustomed to the light, she recognized the old coat. “MY DEAR MISS STANLEY,” it began,—“I hope you will forgive my bothering you with a letter, but I have been thinking very much over our conversation at Lady Palsworthy’s, and I feel there are things I want to say to you so much that I cannot wait until we meet again. ‘Of course. They could not go on. To her consternation, the sound drew her great-aunt’s attention and she threw out a hand.
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