P.S.--Jack, she is an angel. I am not good enough for her.
[CHAPTER XVIII.]
AN ELIZABETHAN ANCESTOR.
"Have you been waiting long?" asked Meg, swinging a large key.
"Close on an hour," replied Dan, ruefully; "I never passed so tedious a sixty minutes in my life."
Meg laughed, and clinked the key against the iron bars. She was on one side of the gate, and he was on the other, but they could see and smile, which was a better fate than befell Pyramus and Thisbe when divided by that cruel wall. Dan felt as though he were on the eve of storming an enchanted castle to release a spellbound princess. He mentioned this fancy to Meg, who raised her eyebrows.
"You must be thinking of Miss Linisfarne then," she said, "for no imprisoned princess would possess a key."
"Very well, Meg, let us change the fairy story, and say that you are Bluebeard's wife. She had a key, and made bad use of it. But are you going to keep me outside Paradise?"
"Paradise!" repeated Meg, not seeing the veiled compliment. "Why do you call the park Paradise?"
After his bad fortune of the previous day, Dan was careful not to hurt her susceptibilities, and explained his compliment in a most prosaic fashion. Were he to speak plainly, she might refuse him admittance.