’ ‘Oh, peste,’ exclaimed Melusine crossly. . A momentary petrifaction, and terror had lent wings to her feet. Her father had smiles ready for her, he seemed to be truly happy with her for the first time since her infancy. She ran her gaze over him, and allowed her eyelashes to flutter down. “Forty guineas a week. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. ’ Melusine bit her lip.
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