"To paint your portrait," answered the jailer. Once she stopped in front of a mirror and looked at herself thoughtfully. For just as though a vague likeness is sometimes borne swiftly in upon one, so a vague dissimilarity between the face on the poster and the heroine of his thoughts had slowly crept into his consciousness. “No, not that I know of,” Michelle replied, her still eyes not meeting Lucy’s. Her hair got loose, her hat came over one eye, and she had no arm free to replace it. I still have a cross stitch she made for me of a little fairy sitting on a daffodil. Why had she married him, off-hand, like that? She did not love him, or he knew nothing of love signs. Why had he kissed her? What had led him into that? Neither love nor passion— utter blankness so far as reducing the act to terms. And here she was—in a mess because it had been impossible for her to avoid leaning upon another man. ‘I should never have told you. " "If I thought so—" cried the knight fiercely; "but this is idle," he added, suddenly checking himself. Mr.
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