“I have left you Dale at any rate.”
She smiled enigmatically through her tears.
“I'm not ungrateful. I don't despise the crumbs.”
Which remark, now that I come to think of it, was not flattering to my young friend.
But what is the use of thinking of it? My fire is burning low. It is time I ended this portion of my “Rule and Example of Eumoiriety,” which, I fear, has not followed the philosophic line I originally intended.
The die is cast. My things are packed. Rogers, who likes his British beef and comforts, is resigned to the prospect of Continental travel, and has gone to bed hours ago. There is no more soda water in the siphon. I must go to bed.
Paris to-morrow.
CHAPTER X
“Ay!” says Touchstone; “now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was at home I was in a better place.”