The girl was like some north-country woodland pool, penetrated by a single shaft of sunlight—beautifully clear in one spot and mysteriously obscured elsewhere. I know less about this affair perhaps than you suppose. Fritz sang for her sometimes, for Fritz could sing even before he was able to form words. He sent me home. "Oh, lud! what's that?" exclaimed a female voice, from an adjoining room. "It's of no use," observed Thames quietly, but with a look that chilled the little damsel's heart;—"my resolution is taken. She’ll have to wait for dinner,” he said, uncomfortably. ’ The dimple that so fascinated Melusine peeped in her great-aunt’s cheek.
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