The theme was a masquerade. “What else can happen?” asked Miss Miniver, with a little weak gesture at the glow. He's more like a lord than—" As she spoke, steps were heard approaching; the door was thrown open, and a young man marched boldly into the room. At the back of the house, on a bank, rose an old-fashioned terrace-garden, full of apple-trees and other fruittrees in blossom, and lively with the delicious verdure of early spring. I will take her back. There must be real Valjeans, else how could authors write about them? Supposing some day she met one of these astonishing creators, who could make one cry and laugh and forget, who could thrill one with love and anger and tenderness? Most of us have witnessed carnivals. ’ ‘That is silly. “Women know these things by instinct,” she answered. “How do you know?” “Well, it isn’t exactly a depressing state, is it?” “YOU don’t know. In fact, the whole face had undergone a transformation.
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