"If the thought have the form of a wish, give it me, little one, while the power remains mine.

For power, you know, is a fretful thing, and hath its wings always spread for flight." She answered with a simplicity almost childish, "Send for him, father.

Send for him to-night, and do not let him go into the Circus." "Ah!" he said, prolonging the exclamation; and again his eyes fell upon the river, where the shadows were more shadowy than ever, since the moon had sunk far down behind Sulpius, leaving the city to the ineffectual stars.

Shall we say it, reader?
He was touched by a twinge of jealousy.

If she should really love the young master! Oh no! That could not be; she was too young.