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"Yes, Eugenie; my soul would be small indeed if I did not accept. Andyet,,gift for gift, confidence for confidence." wig types same day shipping

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"What do you mean?" she said, frightened. wig craft type b

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"Listen, dear cousin; I have here," He interrupted himself to pointout a square box covered with an outer case of leather which was onthe drawers. "There," he continued, "is something as precious to me aslife itself. This box was a present from my mother. All day I havebeen thinking that if she could rise from her grave, she would herselfsell the gold which her love for me lavished on this dressing-case;but were I to do so, the act would seem to me a sacrilege." Eugeniepressed his hand as she heard these last words. "No," he added, aftera slight pause, during which a liquid glance of tenderness passedbetween them, "no, I will neither sell it nor risk its safety on myjourney. Dear Eugenie, you shall be its guardian. Never did friendcommit anything more sacred to another. Let me show it to you."He went to the box, took it from its outer coverings, opened it, andshowed his delighted cousin a dressing-case where the rich workmanshipgave to the gold ornaments a value far above their weight."What you admire there is nothing," he said, pushing a secret springwhich opened a hidden drawer. "Here is something which to me is worththe whole world." He drew out two portraits, masterpieces of MadameMirbel, richly set with pearls.

"Oh, how beautiful! Is it the lady to whom you wrote that,""No," he said, smiling; "this is my mother, and here is my father,your aunt and uncle. Eugenie, I beg you on my knees, keep my treasuresafely. If I die and your little fortune is lost, this gold and thesepearls will repay you. To you alone could I leave these portraits; youare worthy to keep them. But destroy them at last, so that they maypass into no other hands." Eugenie was silent. "Ah, yes, say yes! Youconsent?" he added with winning grace.

Hearing the very words she had just used to her cousin now addressedto herself, she turned upon him a look of love, her first look ofloving womanhood,,a glance in which there is nearly as much ofcoquetry as of inmost depth. He took her hand and kissed it."Angel of purity! between us two money is nothing, never can beanything. Feeling, sentiment, must be all henceforth."

"You are like your mother,,was her voice as soft as yours?""Oh! much softer,"

"Yes, for you," she said, dropping her eyelids. "Come, Charles, go tobed; I wish it; you must be tired. Good-night." She gently disengagedher hand from those of her cousin, who followed her to her room,lighting the way. When they were both upon the threshold,,"Ah!" he said, "why am I ruined?"

"What matter?,my father is rich; I think so," she answered."Poor child!" said Charles, making a step into her room and leaninghis back against the wall, "if that were so, he would never have letmy father die; he would not let you live in this poor way; he wouldlive otherwise himself."

"But he owns Froidfond."

"What is Froidfond worth?"

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