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IN A WINTER CITY.

met the faithful Maurice ascending. That slender and indefatigable leader of cotillons swept his hat to the ground, twisted the waxed ends of his small moustache, and murmured that he was about to inquire of the servants if Madame la Comtesse were "tout-à-fait remise après ses fatigues incroyables."

Lady Hilda, whom he feared very greatly, passed him with a chilly salutation, and he went on up the stairs, and in two minutes' time was assuring Madame Mila that she was "fraiche comme la rosée du matin," which did credit to his ready chivalry of compliments, since he was aware of all the mysteries of those bright cheeks and that small pomegranate-like mouth, and had even once or twice before great balls, given an artistic touch or two to their completion, having graduated with much skill and success in such accomplishments under the tuition of Mademoiselle Rose Thè, and La Petite Boulotte.

The San Cipriano was to be found in a church some five miles out of the city; a lonely church set high on a fragrant hill-side, with sheep amongst the olive boughs, and the ox-plough under the