"It was quite a surprise," Mr. Dane said, sipping his cafe au lait composedly.
"Did you ever see such a beautiful young creature?" continued Carl, with enthusiasm.
"Yes," was the unexpected reply.
"You have!" exclaimed Carl; "I did not think it possible for two such divinities to exist upon this earth. Have the goodness to tell me where you ever saw Mrs. Carlyle's equal in grace and loveliness."
But Mr. Dane, who but seldom descended to Carl's special prerogative, poetry, sat down his cup and slowly repeated like one communing with himself:
"'I remember one that perished; sweetly did she speak and move;
Such an one do I remember, whom to look at was to love.'"
"She is dead, then?" said Carl.
"She is dead to me," was the bitter reply.
And with a significant look Carl repeated the lines that came next to those that Leslie had quoted: