"To be sure," said I; "not that it can be for _me_." And then, when I opened the stupid bit of paper, it seemed to scorch my face and something came into my throat, as I began to read the ridiculous words--'_My dear and beautiful girl._' "Must be a mistake," cried FRED: though I thought I saw him just bite his lip, and just a little wrinkle his eye brows. "But go on." "'_I have beheld you in silent admiration; but now I feel longer silence impossible!_' I shan't read any more," said I, "for how can it concern me--I mean _us_?" "Go on," cried FRED, hooking his fore-finger round his nose and rubbing it in his manner, when he is thinking. '_It is plain you were intended for a brighter destiny than what has befallen you._' "Come," said FRED in his aggravating way, "that's no compliment to me." "To you! Then, if it comes to that," said I, "and if for a minute you think this stuff was written to me, you may read the rest yourself." And with this--with all the spirit I could--I flung the letter _at him_. Yes; at him; and as he looked up, and a little astonished, but more hurt, as I thought, opened his eyes at me--I felt myself so wrong, so rebuked, that I flung my arms about his neck, and the next snatched up the note to tear it to pieces. "Stop, LOTTY;" cried FRED; "as it is not our property, we've no right to destroy it." And then he put the letter in his breast pocket; and, as he did so, I had a twinge of the heart, a cold chill, for all the world as though he had put a viper there. "FRED, dear FRED," said I, and what ailed me I couldn't tell; but all I recollect was that saying or stammering, "let us go home," I fell upon his neck; and after awhile coming to myself, I found JOSEPHINE--now pale and now flustered--at my side. But still the wish was in my thoughts. "_Do_, do let us go home." "Well, LOTTY, love; we _will_ go home. In a little while; a very little while; a day or two"-- "Now, FRED; to-day." "Why, to-day, LOTTY, is impossible. The fact is, I expect--but never mind;" and I felt sure there was something FRED was hiding from me, something I ought to know. But before I could reply, he took his hat and left the room. I don't know what could have possessed me; but, for the minute, I felt alone--all alone in the world; and the next, such a newer, deeper love--I had thought it impossible to be so--for FREDERICK; and then--but JOSEPHINE was present, looking so curiously at me, that I was directly called to myself. "You'd never think of going home, Ma'am, without a peep at France?" said JOSEPHINE. "What I think can in no way concern you," I replied very freezingly; for, somehow, I could not _quite_ understand JOSEPHINE'S looks.