Its charred end curled down and twisted away from her and her heart sank; but the tall figure of Palmyre for a moment came between, the wick was snuffed, the flame tapered up again, and for a long time burned, a bright, tremulous cone.

Again the wick turned down, but this time toward her,--a propitious omen,--and suddenly fell through the expended wax and went out in the sirup.
The daylight, as Palmyre let it once more into the apartment, showed Aurora sadly agitated.

In evidence of the innocence of her fluttering heart, guilt, at least for the moment, lay on it, an appalling burden.
"That is all, Palmyre, is it not?
I am sure that is all--it must be all.
I cannot stay any longer.

I wish I was with Clotilde; I have stayed too long." "Yes; all for the present," replied the quadroon.

"Here, here is some charmed basil; hold it between your lips as you walk--" "But I am going to my landlord's office!" "Office?
Nobody is at his office now; it is too late.