I wish you had not told me." "But you begged me to," said she, pouting, as she took her seat at the instrument.
"How ominous," muttered he,--"became covered with black spots; that is a foreshadowing.

How can I tell her," he thought.

"It seems like wilfully destroying my own happiness." And he sat struggling with himself to obtain the necessary courage to fulfil the purpose of his visit, and became so deeply engrossed with his own reflections as to scarcely even hear the sound of the instrument.
"It is too bad," she cried, as she ceased playing: "here I have performed some of your favourite airs, and that too without eliciting a word of commendation.

You are inexpressibly dull to-night; nothing seems to enliven you.

What is the matter ?" "Oh," rejoined he, abstractedly, "am I?
I was not aware of it." "Yes, you are," said Little Birdie, pettishly; "nothing seems to engage your attention." And, skipping off to the table, she took up the newspaper, and exclaimed,--"Let me read you something very curious." "No, no, Anne dear," interrupted he; "sit here by me.