Voilà tout, as Melusine herself would say. This obstacle being removed, in his eagerness to proceed, he had forgotten to take his little charge with him. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. It ought never to have begun. ‘I’m a soldier, missie. Melusine ran up the stairway after him, her point flailing to frighten him into allowing her access to the chapel. She spotted her opportunity. "My horse has had a fall," replied Jack, assuming to perfection—for he was a capital mimic,—the tones of Quilt Arnold.
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