102 THE FLOltAL TELEGRAPH. 
her lather, she Hung herself upon 
the bosom of her lover. 
“ The deadly shot passed right 
through her, and lodged in the heart 
of Lionel. They fell and died to¬ 
gether.” 
Poor Floribel, overcome by the 
horrible nature of her recollections, 
bent down her head even unto her 
knees, and wept in the very spirit of 
wretchedness. I fell a-crying also, 
but I do not think that she saw me; 
so I care not; besides, tears are not 
very visible through a pair of dark- 
green spectacles, which I had un¬ 
consciously put on, when I found 
that the lady was growing pathetieal. 
