enchanting thing you yourself have the wit to conceive?"
"Ah, my dear friend!" Gaston Probert murmured, gratefully, panting.
"The limit will be yours, not hers," Waterlow added.
"No, no, I have done with limits," his companion rejoined, ecstatically.
That evening at ten o'clock Gaston went to the Hôtel de l'Univers et de Cheltenham and requested the German waiter to introduce him into the dining-room attached to Mr. Dosson's apartments and then go and tell Miss Francina he was awaiting her there.
"Oh, you'll be better there than in the zalon—they have villed it with their luccatch," said the man, who always addressed him in an intention of English and was not ignorant of the tie that united the visitor to the amiable American family, or perhaps even of the modifications it had lately undergone.
"With their luggage?"
"They leave to-morrow morning—oh, I don't think they themselves known for where, sir."
"Please then say to Miss Francina that I have called on very urgent business—that I'm pressed, pressed!"
The eagerness of the sentiment which possessed Gaston at that moment is communicative, but perhaps the vividness with which the waiter placed
