Chapter 55

_in his arms. Three_ Students.

_1st Student_. Edward, you see that long, lank, thread-bare man? There is a character for that same novel You talk of thunder-striking London with, One of these days.

_2nd St_. I scarcely noticed him; I was so taken with the lovely child. She is angelic.

_3rd St_. You see angels always, Where others, less dim-sighted, see but mortals. She is a pretty child. Her eyes are splendid. I wonder what the old fellow is about. Some crazed enthusiast, music-distract, That lingers at the door he cannot enter! Give him an obol, Frank, to pay old Charon, And cross to the Elysium of sweet sounds. Here's mine.

_1st St_. And mine.

_2nd St_. And mine.

[_3rd Student offers the money to_ JULIAN.]

_Julian_ (_very quietly_). No, thank you, sir.

_Lily_. Oh! there is mother!

[_Stretching-her hands toward a lady stepping out of a carriage_.]

_Julian_. No, no; hush, my child!

[_The lady looks round, and _LILY _clings to her father_. Women _talking_.]

_1st W_. I'm sure he's stolen the child. She can't be his.

_2nd W_. There's a suspicious look about him.

_3rd W_ True; But the child clings to him as if she loved him.

[JULIAN _moves on slowly_.]