The latter no sooner beheld him than he dashed hastily into an adjoining room. She turned to Lucilla, a plea in her face. Boys, at the time of which we write, were attired like men of their own day, or certain charity-children of ours; and the stripling in question was dressed in black plush breeches, and a gray drugget waistcoat, with immoderately long pockets, both of which were evidently the cast-off clothes of some one considerably his senior. “Of course, one lives differently in Paris, but then—Paris is Paris. It was debauching, this—a devilish art which drew such strange allurements from a face and figure almost Madonna-like in their simplicity. Vorsack would just have to live with it. Nay, for aught I know, some of them may even now have got scent of me. “P.
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