He had bled everywhere, but she had struck when the opportunity was ripe. "Was that thunder?" he faltered, as a terrible clap was heard overhead. 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. She dressed rapidly and left the theatre without a word to any one. But the father, to go his way forever alone! The iron in the man!—the iron in this child of his! Wanting a little love, a caress now and then. “Your name and address in his pocket was no delusion,” he said sharply.
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