The intruder was handsomely, even richly, attired in a scarlet riding-suit, embroidered with gold; a broad belt, to which a hanger was attached, crossed his shoulders; his boots rose above his knee, and he carried a laced hat in his hand. He would take with him that traitress Yolande, and claim to the lawyer that this was Melusine Charvill. I was the black sheep, I was hurried out of the way. Won’t you let me—can’t I be of any assistance?” He was obviously in earnest. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. I wish”— she found she had embarked on a bad sentence—“I wish we needn’t have quarrelled.
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