"Not one," very earnestly. "But you, Dorian,"—she slips an arm round his neck, and brings his face down closer to her own, as though to read the expression of his eyes more clearly,—"are you satisfied? Think how unkind I was to you; and, after all,"—naïvely,—"I am only pretty; there is really nothing in me. You have my whole heart, of course, you know that; I am yours, indeed, but then"—discontentedly—"what am I?"
"I know: you are my own darling," says Branscombe, very softly.
THE END.
1523 K Street, N. W.,
Washington, D. C., January 24, 1888.
Ph. Best Brewing Co.,
Specialty Department, 28 College Place, N. Y.