You understand. We have to hang about in the interval. Parbleu, but must she do this all through the house? Evidently she must, for not only could she not properly see the paintings and portraits that hung on the walls, but she was in imminent danger of bumping into the sheet-shrouded furniture. “Carolyn loves ‘Fiddler on the Roof. To-night she could have hugged both the old maids. She tossed her head, and, having no further words, moved toward the door. It might be upset. " "Excuse me, Madam," replied the carpenter, turning his back upon her, and sinking into a chair: "Thames, my love, bring me my spectacles. "My own father!" Queerly the room and its objects receded and vanished; and there intervened a series of mental pictures that so long as she lived would ever be recurring. ‘Jacques, you have been very much my friend.
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