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Each wing had a small cupola; and, in the centre of the pile rose a larger dome, surmounted by a gilded ball and vane. But here was new music, tender and kindly and whimsical, that first roved to and fro in the mind and then cuddled up in the heart. But then the features changed. The next page was a drawing that she had made in pen and ink of his face, or what she had remembered of it. Checking an ominous cough, that, ever and anon, convulsed her lungs, the poor woman addressed a few parting words to her companion, who lingered at the doorway as if he had something on his mind, which he did not very well know how to communicate. "I never stand upon ceremony where I know I shall be welcome.
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