From that advent, and the long and varied mental sufferings which its consequences brought upon her, sprang that second change in Palmyre, which made her finally untamable, and ended in a manumission, granted her more for fear than for conscience' sake.

When Aurora attempted to tell those experiences, even leaving Bras-Coupe as much as might be out of the recital, she choked with tears at the very start, stopped, laughed, and said: "_C'est tout_--daz all.

'Sieur Frowenfel', oo you fine dad pigtu' to loog lag, yonnah, hon de wall ?" She spoke as if he might have overlooked it, though twenty times, at least, in the last hour, she had seen him glance at it.
"It is a good likeness," said the apothecary, turning to Clotilde, yet showing himself somewhat puzzled in the matter of the costume.
The ladies laughed.
"Daz ma grade-gran'-mamma," said Clotilde.
"Dass one _fille a la cassette_," said Aurora, "my gran'-muzzah; _mais_, ad de sem tarn id is Clotilde." She touched her daughter under the chin with a ringed finger.

"Clotilde is my gran'-mamma." Frowenfeld rose to go.
"You muz come again, 'Sieur Frowenfel'," said both ladies, in a breath.
What could he say?
.