The Champion accepts with pleasure that polite invitation, and will have the honor of waiting upon the Prince and Princess of Cleves about half an hour after the receipt of this letter." "Tol lol de rol, girl," shouted the Prince with heartfelt joy.

(Have you not remarked, dear friend, how often in novel-books, and on the stage, joy is announced by the above burst of insensate monosyllables ?) "Tol lol de rol.

Don thy best kirtle, child; thy husband will be here anon." And Helen retired to arrange her toilet for this awful event in the life of a young woman.

When she returned, attired to welcome her defender, her young cheek was as pale as the white satin slip and orange sprigs she wore.
She was scarce seated on the dais by her father's side, when a huge flourish of trumpets from without proclaimed the arrival of THE CHAMPION.

Helen felt quite sick: a draught of ether was necessary to restore her tranquillity.
The great door was flung open.