" Just then, the infant began to sob piteously. She, having all the confidence in the world, ripped off an end and drew out the contents—a letter and a check. “We are the music and you are the instrument,” she said; “we are verse and you are prose. ’ The dimple that so fascinated Melusine peeped in her great-aunt’s cheek. “It does not appear to me,” he said, stiffly, “to be an affair for jests. She turned towards the door, and had taken a pace towards it when it was flung open. We girls, my sister and I, were left quite alone when our father died, and I made up my mind to make some little place in the world for myself. She did not twitch. Perhaps because I don’t know. ” He sighed. “I am afraid,” he said gravely, “that your sister has been a little indiscreet.
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