When she finished her last cadence, Carolyn and Thomas begged her to play encores. Gwen—I saw Gwen the other day, and the paint’s thicker than ever. “Dinner is served, m’m,” said the efficient parlor-maid in the archway, and the worst was over. But there was only Gosse, still struggling with the picture, looking dazedly towards Melusine and the lad he had shot, then away towards the sounds of pursuit, and back again. She tucked the mission Bible under her arm, and crooking a finger at Rollo, went forth to the west beach where the sou'-west surge piled up muddily, burdened with broken spars, crates, boxes, and weeds. The advanced guard rode on to drive away any opposition, while the main body of the procession crossed the bridge, and slowly toiled up Holborn Hill. "I don't deserve it," he said, at length; "but I would have risked a thousand deaths to enjoy this moment's happiness.
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