you—you are not changed—but yes, you are. Everybody changes, everybody forgets; nobody has any heart.” “Good God, who is it?” asked Jos in a flutter.

“Can’t you guess, Joseph Sedley?” said the little woman in a sad voice, and undoing her mask, she looked at him. “You have forgotten me.”

“Good heavens! Mrs. Crawley!” gasped out Jos.

“Rebecca,” said the other, putting her hand on his; but she followed the game still, all the time she was looking at him.

“I am stopping at the Elephant,” she continued. “Ask for Madame de Raudon. I saw my dear Amelia to- day; how pretty she looked, and how happy! So do you! Everybody but me, who am wretched, Joseph Sedley.” And she put her money over from the red to the black, as if by a chance movement of her hand, and while she was wiping her eyes with a pocket-handkerchief fringed with torn lace.

The red came up again, and she lost the whole of that stake.~ “Come away,” she said. “Come with me a little —we are old friends, are we not, dear Mr. Sedley?”

And Mr. Kirsch having lost all his money by this time, followed his master out into the moonlight, where the illuminations were winking out and the transparency over our mission was scarcely visible.