“She must look forward to Italy. On this side stood the instruments with which the latter piece of pleasantry had been effected,—namely, a bucket filled with paint and a brush: on that was erected a trophy, consisting of a watchman's rattle, a laced hat, with the crown knocked out, and its place supplied by a lantern, a campaign wig saturated with punch, a torn steen-kirk and ruffles, some halfdozen staves, and a broken sword. Melusine came back to the present to discover that tears were rolling down her cheeks. She looked and felt like a fairy princess. In a moment they were in the street outside. "Few stay more than a day. We have only those phantoms called memories, which are the husks of dreams. In you—if you can love me—there is salvation. And see!" he added, as the figures drew back, and the lights disappeared; "it's a false alarm. And yet, she would be easy prey in her present state of mind to any plausible, attractive scoundrel.
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