“MY DEAR GIRL,— “I am so sorry if we made asses of ourselves to-night. “Nor am I going to,” she answered, smiling. Only an undermaid I was then. It was impossible. Still, one never could tell. It’s to do with adolescence. When Claude Du Val was in Newgate thrown, He carved his name on the dungeon stone; Quoth a dubsman, who gazed on the shattered wall, "You have carved your epitaph, Claude Du Val, With your chisel so fine, tra la!" "This S wants a little deepening," mused the apprentice, retouching the letter in question; "ay, that's better. ” A flush of excitement crept into her cheeks. And I passed myself off as Meysey Hill, and since—then—I haven’t had a minute’s peace. "I have a token to deliver to you," continued the stranger, addressing her. His first date, he was a late bloomer for a Popular.
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