he was only the adopted father of Perdita, he produced the proofs of her birth. He pulled out, from their concealment in his garments, the mantle in which the infant had been wrapped, the jewels she wore, and the slip of paper on which Antigonus had left directions for her name, and instructions that she was of noble birth, and should be tenderly reared. In an instant all was changed: Leontes clasped Perdita in his arms, crying out that she was his lost daughter; Paulina listened to the account of her husband’s death with tears of grief, which were softened by her joy in seeing the oracle fulfilled; Camillo was dumb with amazement, and Florizel scarcely knew whether he waked or dreamed. There were laughter and tears, and explanations and rejoicings, till the whole court of Sicily seemed to have gone quite mad.
Of course there was now no bar to the marriage of Florizel and Perdita, and their hands were plighted and the wedding-day fixed. Now the court gave themselves up to merry-making and rejoicings, which were only marred to Leontes by the memory of his lost Hermione. When Paulina saw that his face often wore a shadow, and that many a sigh escaped him which only her quick ear heard, she could no longer keep secret a surprise she had been re-
