In an instant, she turned on him. I love him as a brother. At the open door stood a young man in a rich garb with a mask on his face, who was encouraging the mob by words and gestures. Her cheeks burned for a moment or two when she reached the street, although she held her head upright and walked blithely, even humming to herself fragments of an old French song. On a sudden, a change came over her countenance, which, up to this moment, had worn a smiling and satisfied expression. “You will write to me, I am sure—and from the date of your letter I trust most earnestly that I may come back to my old place as “Your devoted friend, “WALTER BRENDON. She asked the girl to fetch Mr.
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