_Elle m'aime, Monsieur--elle m'aime, cette pauvre petite_! What shall she do if I die ?" Again he raised his hand to his brow.

He was unconscious of anything theatrical in the gesture.

He was in sad earnest, and his eyes were wet with tears, which he made no effort to conceal.
My father shuffled restlessly in his chair.
"No obligation--no obligation at all," he muttered, with a touch of impatience in his voice.

"And now, what about those tickets?
I suppose, Basil, you're dying to see all this tomfoolery ?" "That I am, sir," said I, joyfully.

"I should like it above all things!" The Chevalier glided forward, and laid a couple of little pink cards upon my father's desk.
"If," said he, timidly, "if Monsieur will make me the honor to accept...." "Not for the world, sir--not for the world!" interposed my father.