"Stop a minute, my dear," cried Austin. In a voice husky with suppressed despair, she answered. She told the porter to take it to the booking-office, and it was only after a disconcerting moment or so that she found she ought to have directed him to go to the cloak-room. Capes and her father stood up, and her father made a belated movement toward the curtain. She was going through with that, anyhow. " "Wait a bit, massa," replied the grinning negro,—"lilly bit—see all right fust. ” She covered her face with her hands. ‘Valade, if you don’t mind. I have given up painting. ” Lucy replied. In one grave, mind. The flowers upon the mantel-shelf were withered and drooping—she had gathered them.
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