cold drops of perspiration stood on his forehead. She now, indeed, let go his hands, and he might have fled, but he felt himself spell-bound, he could not move from the place—like some poor little animal that has been fascinated by the eye of the rattle-snake.
"Allow me," she said, "dear Peregrine, to share in this charming treat that you have so nobly, and with such real goodness, prepared for the children. Permit me, also, to contribute something to it!"
From a little basket which hung upon her arm, and which had not been remarked till now, she took out all sorts of playthings, arranged them on the table with graceful bustle, brought forward the children, pointed out to each the present intended for him, and sported so prettily withal, that nothing could be more delightful. The bookbinder thought he was in a dream, but the wife laughed roguishly, fancying that there must be some particular acquaintance between Peregrine and the stranger.
While now the parents were wondering, and the children were rejoicing, the lady took her
