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A moment later Mr. Whitney was beside him, an expression on his face which the boy could not fathom. It was a stern look yet there was a twinkle in the kind eyes. His first words were ominous.,

“We can’t round the point,” said Tellef.,

The commission of one crime often requires the perpetration of another. When once we enter on the ladyrinth of vice, we can seldom return, but are led on, through correspondent mazes, to destruction. To obviate the effect of his first crime, it was now necessary the marquis should commit a second, and conceal the imprisonment of the marchioness by her murder. Himself the only living witness of her existence, when she was removed, the allegations of the Padre Abate would by this means be unsupported by any proof, and he might then boldly appeal to the pope for the restoration of his child.,

Bob and Jerry were happy. The companionship which they had formed during the days of the Labyrinth and which had been interrupted, now was cemented still further. Ted Hoyt had been allowed by his father to come back to the dam and the trio had great times together.

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But while remembering that we shall be none the worse tomorrow for having been happy today, we are not permitted to forget entirely the Blue-devil Sprite that awaits the dawn. The play-spell is over; the lights are out in Vanity Fair; and here in Mr. Dulac's drawing is the leader of our Christmas Chorus as he shuts up the box and the puppets—"for our play is played out.",

“’Gainst rules, son,” was the man’s answer, pulling a lever which made a great bucket shoot up from the depths.,

Meanwhile Hippolitus, who had passed the night in a state of sleepless anxiety, watched, with busy impatience, an opportunity of more fully disclosing to Julia the passion which glowed in his heart. The first moment in which he beheld her, had awakened in him an admiration which had since ripened into a sentiment more tender. He had been prevented formally declaring his passion by the circumstance which so suddenly called him to Naples. This was the dangerous illness of the Marquis de Lomelli, his near and much-valued relation. But it was a task too painful to depart in silence, and he contrived to inform Julia of his sentiments in the air which she heard so sweetly sung beneath her window.,

She opened the bookcase and there saw a book on which was written in letters of gold:—