The Master of the Mint was accompanied by another gentleman almost as portly as himself, and quite as deliberate in his movements. “How did you hear that?” Lucy’s brows knitted. She visited the corner that had been her own little garden—her forget-me-nots and candytuft had long since been elbowed into insignificance by weeds; she visited the raspberry-canes that had sheltered that first love affair with the little boy in velvet, and the greenhouse where she had been wont to read her secret letters. I’ve wanted you—always. Ha! ha! What have I left but despair and madness? Promise me one thing, Mr.
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