The carte de jour was before Monsieur. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. In one grave, mind. She closed her eyes, discerning the divinations he had been up to during her violin concert. He saw, without any particular regret, that this year he would have to forego the junket; but there would be ample compensation in the study of these queer youngsters. "Will you take a guinea for it?" "Double that sum might tempt me," replied the Jew; "it's a nobleman's coat, upon my shoul!" "Here's the money," replied Jack, taking the coat. ‘Caught her sneaking after that Valade fellow.
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