She laughed a little contemptuously. It may be instinctive; it may be that children vaguely realize that at the end of all wedding journeys is disillusion. She addressed her letters, meditated on them for a time, and then took them out and posted them. With his chisel so fine, tra la! "There!" cried the boy, leaping from the stool, and drawing back a few paces on the bench to examine his performance,—"that'll do. He forces an engagement upon her. ‘Now then, missie, where do you think you’re going?’ ‘I must see Jacques only for one little minute,’ Melusine told him prettily, fluttering her lashes. She said as much to him.
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