" "Then you will stay!" she cried, clapping her hands joyfully, "for I'm sure he won't part with you. So, you see—’ ‘Do not say any more,’ Melusine uttered, flinging away and moving to the fireplace. A wide terrace then led to large iron gates,' over which were placed the two celebrated figures of Raving and Melancholy Madness, executed by the elder Cibber, and commemorated by Pope in the Dunciad, in the wellknown lines:— "Close to those walls where Folly holds her throne, And laughs to think Monroe would take her down, Where, o'er the gates, by his famed father's hand, Great Cibber's brazen, brainless brothers stand. “But why is it preposterous?” asked Ann Veronica, and fiddled with a pipe on the mantel. ’ They moved to the door, while the lady shrugged, and then seated herself, glancing from the window into the street below, and then turning again to watch them in their huddle at the other side of the library. He had looked at it before without comprehension. Courtlaw opened his lips, but remained silent in the face of her imperative gesture. She sat there, a mark for boulevarders, the unconscious object of numberless wondering glances. The nuns had no regard for the sensibilities of a “lady” and expected Melusine— for it was her allotted task—to clean and tend the soldier’s wounds even when they festered. ‘I do not know your Gérard. F.
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