From between the leaves he drew out a sheet of pink-tinted, gilt-edged note paper, and, using the note-book for a desk, began to write.

It was a letter, evidently; and after he wrote the first line, he paused, and looked at it with an odd smile.

The line was, "Angel of my Dreams." "I think she will like the style of that," he mused; "it's Frenchified and sentimental, and she rather affects that sort of thing.

Poor child! I don't see how I ever got to be so fond of her." Mr.Stanford went on with his letter.

It was in French, and he wrote very slowly and thoughtfully.