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It is over; the curtain is down; the charming transformation-scene has reached its end, and the fairy-queen doffing her radiant robes, descends once more to the level of a paltry mortal. "I think Geoffrey owes those Divinity boys more than he can ever pay," says the duchess, very prettily. "You must come and see me soon, child. I am an old woman, and seldom stir from home, except when I am positively ordered out by Malcom, as I was to-night. Come next Thursday. There are some charming trifles at the old Court that may amuse you, though I may fail to do so." "Am I not?" says he, humbly, putting on his carefully crestfallen air that has generally been found so highly successful. "Tell me my fault.".

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Dorothy from her corner laughs gayly. "Poor old Noll," she says: "it was his unhappy childhood that blighted his later years and made him the melancholy object he is." These sounds, vague and harmonious as they are, yet full of mystery and unexplained sadness, but serve to heighten the fear that chills her heart. "Shall I write to her?" asks Mona, gently. "Say what you wish done." "No one," replied the girl, but her heart stood still. The bull drank again. Then he stood up on his feet and moaned and grunted, "M-m-ah-oo! Bu-u-u!" Fearful was the sound. Up rose the other bulls, raised their tails in the air, tossed their heads and bellowed back to him. Then they pawed the earth, thrust their horns into it, rushed here and there, and presently, coming to the wallow, found there the poor man. They rushed over him, trampling him with their great hoofs, thrust their horns into his body and tore him to pieces, and trampled him again. Soon not even a piece of his body could be seen—only the wet earth cut up by their hoofs..