She turned back to Gerald, holding out her hand. Melusine fetched her stool and plonked it down next to her great-aunt’s chair. ’ ‘Fancy my old pa thinking you was a French spy. Leonardo had told her it would happen, and warned her to make use of it. You aren’t afraid of thunder, are you?” He asked. It was a charming sight to watch the motions of her tiny fingers as she pursued her task; and though the posture she adopted was not the most favourable that might have been chosen for the display of her sylphlike figure, there was something in her attitude, and the glow of her countenance, lighted up by the mellow radiance of the setting sun falling upon her through the panes of the little dormer-window, that seemed to the youth inexpressibly beautiful. “Mr. 9.
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