"My mother was beautiful but frail--which was in her case peculiarly unfortunate, for my father was the most jealous of men. He had reason to suppose that a handsome young Count was too intimate with her; keeping his suspicions profoundly secret, he made preparations for a long journey, and having announced his intention of remaining abroad several months, he departed from Paris. That very night, at midnight, he abruptly returned, proceeded directly to my mother's chamber, and found the Count St. Cyr in her arms. The guilty pair were taken too much by surprise to attempt resistance or escape, and both were slain on the spot by my father, who had provided himself with weapons for that purpose. The Duke then went to his own chamber--the report of a pistol was heard soon afterwards, and the unfortunate man was found dead, with his brains scattered over the carpet. Thus in one fatal night were my only brother and myself made orphans--nor was this our only misfortune, for the notary who had the charge of our joint patrimony, absconded, and left us penniless. Why need I dwell on the painful details of our poverty and its attendant miseries? Suffice it to say that I resisted a hundred offers from men of rank and wealth, who would have maintained me in luxury had I consented to part with the priceless gem of my virtue.

Yes--I resisted each tempting proposal, for poverty itself was sweeter to me than dishonor. We came to America, and finally to Boston; the Chevalier, by giving private lessons in the sword exercise, supports us both in a style of quiet comfort--but I charge you, sir, never let that fact be known, for the gossiping world must never learn that the son of France's proudest n.o.ble has so degenerated as to _labor_ for his support. Of course, with our modest means, we can mix but little in the gay and fashionable world--as for myself, I prefer to remain at home, and see but few persons except my brother and such of his intimate friends as he occasionally brings home with him. My retired habits have preserved me from the matrimonial speculations of gentlemen, of which I am very glad, for I do not think I shall ever marry; and the seclusion of my life has also saved me from the dishonorable proposals of amorous gentlemen, who are ever ready to insult a good-looking woman provided she is poor, and they are wealthy. Unfortunately for me, I have a constant craving for male society; and when thrown into the company of an agreeable man, be he young or old, pa.s.sions which have never been gratified will a.s.sert their supremacy in my breast, and I often tremble lest, in a moment of delirium, I surrender my person unresisting to the arms of a too fascinating seducer. This weakness of my ardent nature has already several times nearly brought me to ruin; and when your arms just now encircled me, and your lips were pressed to mine, the dizzy delight which I experienced would, in a few moments, have made me your victim, had I not, by a powerful effort, overcome that intoxication of my senses which was fast subduing me; I escaped from your arms, and thank heaven!

my honor is preserved. Now, sir, I have frankly told you all; you certainly will not censure me for my misfortunes--and I trust you will not blame me for those propensities of nature to which we are all subject, and which are so peculiarly strong in me as to render their subjection an act of heroic self-denial."

Thus ended the narrative of the d.u.c.h.ess; and it may well be imagined that her words inflamed the pa.s.sions of her listener more than ever. To have that splendid creature sit by his side, and candidly confess to him that the ardor of her soul yearned for enjoyments which cold prudence would not permit her to indulge in,--what could have been more provoking to his already excited feelings? Mr. Tickels gazed earnestly at her for a few minutes, and his mind was decided; he resolved, if possible, to _reason_ her into a compliance with his wishes.

"Madam," said he, a.s.suming a tone of profound respect--"you are an educated and accomplished lady; your mind is of the most elevated and superior order. You can reflect, and reason, and view things precisely as they are, without any exaggeration. Look abroad upon the world, and you will see all mankind engaged exactly alike--each man and woman is pursuing that course which he or she deems best calculated to promote his or her happiness; and happiness is the essence of _pleasure_. Your miser h.o.a.rds gold--that is _his_ source of pleasure; your vain woman seeks pomp, and display, and adorns her person with many jewels--from all of which she derives _her_ pleasure; and as the child is pleased with its rattle, so is the musty antiquarian with his antique models--so is the traveller with his journeyings and explorations--so is the soldier with glory--and so is the lady of warm impulses with her secret amours. All seek to extract pleasure from the pursuit of some darling object most congenial with their pa.s.sions, their tastes, their preferences. Why, then, should any one seek to set aside the order of things universal--the routine of nature? As consistently might we disturb the harmonious operation of some complex machinery, as to act in opposition to the great fundamental law of human nature--viz: _that every created being, endowed with a ruling pa.s.sion, should seek its legitimate gratification_. By legitimate gratification, I mean, that indulgence which interferes not with the enjoyments or interests of others. The miser should not acc.u.mulate his gold at the expense of another; the libertine should not revel in beauty's arms, by force; the lady must make a willing sacrifice--thus n.o.body is injured--and thus the pleasure is _legitimate_; though bigoted churchmen and canting hypocrites may declaim on the sin of carnal indulgences unsanctioned by the priest and his empty ceremonies. Fools! NATURE, and her laws, and her promptings, and her desires, spurn the trammels of form and custom, and reign triumphant over the hollow mummery of the parson and his pious foolery.

"Now, dear madam," continued the artful logician, (whose words belied his own sentiments, and his own belief,) "supposing that you admit all these premises; what do we next arrive at? Let me be plain, since you have been so candid with me. You have admitted that the prevailing and all-absorbing pa.s.sion of your nature is--an intense desire to enjoy that delicious communion which had its origin in the garden of Eden. Why deprive yourself of the gratification you long for? Why do you hunger for the fruit which is within your reach? Why disregard the promptings of nature? Why obstinately turn aside from a bliss which is the rightful inheritance of every man and woman on the face of the earth? And, lastly, why are you so cruel to me, whom you have been pleased to p.r.o.nounce agreeable? Answer me, charming d.u.c.h.ess, and answer me as your own generous heart and good sense shall dictate."

The d.u.c.h.ess was silent for a short time, and appeared to reflect profoundly; then she said, in a tone and manner singularly earnest--

"Listen to me, my friend--for that you are such, I am very sure. I do not deprive myself of the pleasures of which you speak, in consequence of any scruples, moral or religious. I have no respect for the inst.i.tution of matrimony, or its obligations; I laugh at the doctrines of those who speak of the crime of an indulgence in Love's pleasures, without the sanction of the church. I agree with you that we all have derived from nature the _right_ to feed our diversified pa.s.sions according to their several cravings; but while we are authorized, by the very laws of our being, to seek those delights of sense for which we yearn, a perverted and ridiculous PUBLIC OPINION prohibits such indulgences, unless under certain restrictions, and accompanied by certain forms. Now, though this public opinion undoubtedly _is_ ridiculous and perverted, it must nevertheless be respected, particularly by a lady; otherwise the world, (which is public opinion,) calls her a harlot--points at her the finger of scorn--excludes her from all decent society, and she is forever disgraced and ruined. I must preserve my reputation and position as a lady, no matter at what cost, or what sacrifice; ardently as I long for the delights of love, I shall never, to enjoy them, surrender my personal freedom by marriage, or my character by yielding to the solicitations of a lover,--unless, in the latter case, I should unfortunately, while in the intoxication of excited pa.s.sion, grant the favors which he asks; which I pray heaven may never happen to me! It is all very well, sir," continued the d.u.c.h.ess, a.s.suming a tone of arch vivacity--"it is all very well for you _men_ to be in such continual readiness to indulge in the joys of Venus, whenever opportunity presents itself; for this odious public opinion is very lenient with you, gay deceivers that you are, and kindly pardons and even smiles at your amorous frailties; but we poor women, good heavens!

must not swerve six inches from the straight path of rect.i.tude marked out for us, under pain of eternal condemnation and disgrace; and thus we are either driven into matrimony, or are obliged to deprive ourselves of a bliss (to use your own language) which is the rightful inheritance of every man and woman on the face of the earth. Well," added the d.u.c.h.ess, in a tone of mock melancholy which was irresistibly charming,--"poor _I_ must submit to the stern decree, as well as the rest of those unfortunate mortals called women;--unfortunate because they _are_ women, and because they are even more ardent in their pa.s.sions than those who have the happiness to be men. Let me congratulate you, sir, on your felicity in belonging to a s.e.x which possesses the exclusive privilege of unrestricted amative enjoyment; and I am sure you will not refuse to sympathize with me on my misfortune, in having been born one of those wretched beings who are doomed to be forever shut out from a Paradise for which they long,--a Paradise whose bright portals are guarded by the savage monster, Public Opinion, which ruthlessly denies the admission within its flowery precincts, of every poor daughter of Eve."

Mr. Tickels had listened with breathless attention to the words of the d.u.c.h.ess; he plainly saw that she was not to be subdued by _argument_.

"Her only vulnerable point lies though the avenue of the pa.s.sions,"

thought he--"for according to her own confession, she was intoxicated with rapture when encircled by my arms, and when receiving my ardent kisses; and only escaped the entire surrender of her person to me, by a powerful effort. My course, then, is plain--I must delicately and gradually venture on familiarities which are best calculated to arouse her sensibilities, without incurring her suspicions as to my ultimate object. I must--I shall succeed; for, by heaven! if I should fail to make this exquisite creature mine, I'll eat my own heart with vexatious disappointment!"

"My dear madam," said he, taking the unresisting hand of the d.u.c.h.ess in both of his, and gently pawing it in a manner that would have been disgusting to a spectator--"what can I say, after your candid avowal?

Simply, that you are the most ingenuous, the most delightful creature in the world. I love you to distraction; and yet I will not urge you to depart from the course which you seem determined to pursue, though by adhering to that course you deprive me, as well as yourself, of the most exquisite delights this world can afford. Nevertheless, let us be friends, if we cannot be lovers. See, my hair is gray; I am old enough to be your father; will you not confer upon me a daughter's love? Ah, that bewitching smile is a token of a.s.sent. Thanks, sweet one; now, you know, a father should be the recipient of all his daughter's little joys and sorrows--he should be made acquainted with all her pretty plans and all her naughty wishes; is it not so, my charming daughter?[C] Again your soft smile answers, yes. And when the daughter thus bestows her confidence upon her father, she leans her head upon his bosom, and his protecting arm embraces her lovely waist--thus, as I now do yours. He places his venerated hand in her fair breast--thus--and feels the pulsations of her pure heart; ah! methinks this little heart of thine, sweet one, beats more violently than comports with its proper freedom from fond and gentle longings; thy father must reprove thee, thou delightful offender--yet he forgives thee with this loving kiss--nay, start not, for 'tis a father's privilege. How dewy are thy lips, my daughter, and thy breath is fragrant with the odor of a thousand flowers--'tis thy father tells thee so! Pretty flutterer, why dost thou tremble? I will not harm thee. Ah, is it so?--dost thou tremble with the bliss of being held in a father's arms, and pressed to his heart? Why doth this bosom heave--why do thine eyes sparkle as if with fire, and thy cheeks glow with the rosy hue of a ripe peach? What meaneth that longing, languishing, earnest, voluptuous look? Doth my daughter yearn after the soft joys of Venus?--Confess it, and I'll forgive thee; for thou art a pa.s.sionate darling, and such desires as now swell within my breast become thee well, for they are nature's promptings, and enhance thy beauty. Ah, ha! that blush, glowing like a cloud at sunset, a.s.sures me that I am not mistaken. Yes, hide thy radiant face in my bosom, and let me gather thee closer to my heart--my life--my treasure! Let me no longer play the father; let me be thy lover--thy all--thy own Timothy--thy chosen Tickels! Ah, my bird, have I caught thee at last?--thou art mine--mine--mine--"

Every circ.u.mstance of position and the lady's compliance seemed about to confer upon Mr. Tickels the boon which he so eagerly desired, when at that critical moment the d.u.c.h.ess uttered a piercing scream, and pointed frantically upward to a large mirror that hung directly over the sofa upon which they were partially reclining; the old libertine glanced hurriedly up at the mirror, and to his horror he saw there reflected the figure of the Chevalier Duvall, standing in the centre of the room. He had entered abruptly and noiselessly, and was contemplating the scene before him with every appearance of astonishment and rage.

[C] As an apology for the insertion of this silly, sickening rhapsody of the old libertine, the author begs to state that he introduced it, (as well as other speeches of a like character,) for the purpose of painting, in strong colors, the disgusting lechery of a man, whose primal pa.s.sions had degraded him to the level of a brute. He would also a.s.sure the reader that the character of old Tickels is drawn from a living original, whose real name sounds very much like the curious cognomen that has been a.s.signed him. It will readily be observed that during the entire scene between him and the d.u.c.h.ess, the latter makes him her complete tool--encouraging him to take the very liberties which she affects to resent, and even while declaring her firm intention of remaining virtuous, using language most calculated to inspire him with the thought of being able to enjoy her charms in the end. Her object in all this will be shown towards the conclusion of the chapter. It has been the author's design to portray, in the character of the d.u.c.h.ess, an accomplished, artful, fascinating and totally depraved woman, possessing the beauty of an angel, and the heart of a devil--precisely such a one as could not fail to enslave and victimize such a sensual old wretch as Mr. Tickels; how far this design has been successful, the intelligent and discerning reader is left to judge. In the Chevalier Duvall will be recognized one of those splendid villains, whose superb rascality is cloaked beneath the mantle of a fine person, elegant address, and the a.s.sumption of every quality likely to interest and please the credulous people whom he _honors_ with his patronising friendship.

The d.u.c.h.ess hid her face in her hands, and sobbed violently, as if overcome with shame and affright; while old Tickels, pale and trembling with fear, (for he was a most detestable coward,) fell upon his knees, and gazed upon the Chevalier with an expression of countenance that plainly indicated the terror which froze his blood, and rendered him speechless--for the position in which he and the d.u.c.h.ess had been detected, would, he well knew, admit of no explanation--no equivocation.

"G.o.d of heaven!" said Duvall, in a voice whose calmness rendered it doubly impressive and terrible--"am I the sport of some delusion--some conjuror's trick? Do I dream--or do these eyes actually behold that which appalls my soul? Speak, d.u.c.h.ess--for sister I will not call you--and you, white-faced craven--what is the meaning of this scene?"

But neither the d.u.c.h.ess nor Mr. Tickels could utter one word in reply.

"d.a.m.nation!" exclaimed the Chevalier, drawing a pistol from his pocket, and c.o.c.king it--"answer me, one of you, and that quickly, or there will be blood spilled here!"

This brought Mr. Tickels to his senses; he arose from his knees and stammered forth--

"My dear sir--don't shoot, for G.o.d's sake--put up that pistol, and I'll explain all. I--that is--you know, my dear Chevalier--as a man of the world--beautiful woman--strong temptation--"

"Hold, sir!" cried the Chevalier--"say no more, in that strain, or you die upon the instant. d.u.c.h.ess, tell me the meaning of all this."

The lady raised her tearful eyes imploringly to the stern face of her brother, and said, in a voice rendered indistinct by her sobs--

"Oh, brother! pardon your erring sister, who, in a moment of weakness, forgot her proud and unsullied name! You know the fire and pa.s.sion of my nature; and you know the resolution with which I have heretofore struggled against it. I am inexperienced--unused to the ways of the world--unaccustomed to the artifices of wicked men. Debarred as I am from male society, what wonder that, in the company of a male, I should be overcome by the weakness of a woman's nature? Forgive me, Chevalier, I implore you--indeed, my honor is preserved; your timely intervention prevented the consummation of my ruin."

"Sister," rejoined Duvall, gazing at her with a softened aspect--"I _do_ forgive you, your honor being still undefiled; I know the power of your pa.s.sions, notwithstanding your many excellent qualities; and I can scarcely wonder at your momentary weakness, when an accomplished villain tempts you to ruin. Hereafter, dear sister, govern those unruly pa.s.sions with a rod of iron; remember the grandeur of our ancestral house and name, and let that remembrance be your safeguard.--As for you, sir,"

continued the Chevalier, turning savagely towards Mr. Tickels, while his magnificent features grew dark with terrible rage--"as for you, sir, you have betrayed my confidence and abused my hospitality; I introduced you into this house, supposing you to be a man of honor and a friend.

You have attempted the seduction of my sister; you have basely tried to take advantage of the weakness of an inexperienced and unsuspecting woman; but more than all this, sir--and my blood boils with fury at the thought!--you would have tarnished the unstained name and honor of a kingly race! Look you, sir, these wrongs demand instant reparation--one or both of us must die. Here are two pistols; take your choice; place yourself at the distance of six paces from me, and let impartial Fate decide the issue!"

"But, my dear sir," cried the old villain, almost beside himself with terror--"I can't--I don't want to be killed--my G.o.d, sir, I never fired a pistol in all my life. Can't we settle this matter in some other way?

Will not _money_--"

"Money!" exclaimed me Chevalier, scornfully--"fool, can money heal a wounded honor, or wipe away the odium of your insults? Choose your weapon, sir!"

"Mercy--mercy!" cried the dastard, falling on his knees before his stern antagonist--"I am rich, let me depart in safety, and I'll give you a cheque for a hundred--"

The Chevalier c.o.c.ked a pistol.

"Five hundred--," groaned Tickels.

The pistol was raised, and pointed at his head.

"A thousand dollars!" yelled the victim, his face streaming with a cold perspiration, his hair bristling, and his teeth chattering with fright.

The Chevalier paused, and said, after a few moments' reflection--

"After all, to make such men as you disgorge a portion of their wealth, is a punishment as severe as any that I can inflict upon you. You are a coward and dare not fight; I wish not to murder you in cold blood. I will content myself with exposing your infamous conduct to the world--publishing your rascality in every newspaper, and you will be kicked like a dog from all decent society; this will I do, unless you immediately fill me out a cheque for the sum of five thousand dollars."

"Five thousand devils!" growled Tickels, gaining courage as he believed his life to be in no imminent danger--"what! five thousand dollars for only having kissed and toyed a little with a pretty woman, without having reaped any substantial benefit? No, no, my friend--you can't come it; you are, to use a vulgar phrase, cutting it rather fat; I'm not so precious green as you think. I don't mind giving you a couple of hundred, or so, for what fun I've had, but five thousand--whew! rather a high price for the amus.e.m.e.nt, considering what a remarkably free-and-easy lady your sister is!"

"No more of this!" thundered the Chevalier, in a tone that made Mr.

Tickels leap two feet into the air--"instantly give me a cheque for the sum that I demand, or by my royal grandfather's beard, (an oath I dare not break,) I'll blow your head into fragments!--Look at that clock; it now lacks one minute of the hour; that minute I give you to decide; if, at the expiration of that period, you do not consent to do as I request, you die!"

The muzzle of the pistol was placed in very close proximity to the victim's head; there was no alternative--life was exceedingly sweet to Mr. Tickels, although the wickedness of half a century rested heavily on his soul; in a few seconds more, unless he consented to give up a portion of his basely acquired wealth, he had every reason to fear that soul would be ushered into a dark and unfathomable eternity. No wonder, then, that he tremulously said--

"Put up your weapon; I will do as you require."

Writing materials were soon brought, and in a few minutes the Chevalier was the possessor of a cheque on a State street bank, bearing the substantial autograph of Timothy Tickels.

"Now, sir," said Duvall, depositing the valuable doc.u.ment in his pocket-book--"you are at liberty to depart. I am confident that you will, for your own sake, keep this affair a profound secret; and so far as myself and much-injured sister are concerned, you may rest a.s.sured that nothing shall ever be said calculated to compromise your reputation. I cannot avoid expressing my regret that a man of your advanced age, and high standing in society, should descend so low as to manifest such base and grovelling sensuality--such unprincipled libertinism--especially towards a lady who has heretofore regarded you as a friend. Go, sir, and seek some other victim, if you will--but confine your amours to your own cla.s.s, and do not again aspire to the favors of a lady in whose veins flows the n.o.blest blood of France!"

Mr. Tickels took his leave of the indignant brother and his much-injured sister, with a very ill grace; and bent his steps towards his own house, grinding his teeth with impotent rage. The loss of his money, and the mortifying disappointment he had experienced, rendered him furious, and he muttered as he strode thro' the streets with hasty and irregular steps--

"Eternal curse on my ill fortune! Five thousand dollars gone at one fell swoop--but hah! the money's nothing, when I think of my being cheated out of the enjoyment of such celestial charms as those possessed by that splendid enchantress!--At the very critical moment--when she lay panting and unresisting in my arms--with all her glorious beauties spread out before me, like the delicious materials of a dainty feast--just as the cup of joy was raised to my eager lips, and I was about to quaff its bewildering contents, to be balked by the unexpected entrance of that accused Chevalier. Confusion!--I shall go mad with vexation. **** Well, 'tis of no use to grumble about what can't be helped; let me rather turn my attention to future joys, concerning which there can be no disappointment. My plans are all arranged; in a few days my pretty f.a.n.n.y Aubrey will be an inmate of the luxurious "Chambers of Love." Ha, ha!

_that_ thought almost reconciles me to the loss of the d.u.c.h.ess--though, egad! _she_ is a luscious piece, all fire, all sentiment, all enthusiasm! But oh! five thousand dollars, five thousand dollars! *** But let me see: where is the infernal trap of that scoundrel, _Jew Mike_, whom Sow Nance recommended as a fellow well qualified to abduct my pretty f.a.n.n.y, and convey her to the "Chambers?" Ah, good; his address is in my memorandum book: _'Inquire for the Pig Pen, No.--Ann street, any night after midnight._' Ugh! I don't like this venturing among cut-throats and thieves, at such untimely hours; but nothing risk, nothing have; and anything for love!"

The reader's attention is now summoned to the scene which transpired between the Chevalier and the d.u.c.h.ess, immediately after the departure of Mr. Tickels from the house.

The d.u.c.h.ess, who had been sitting upon the sofa, bathed in tears and sobbing as if her heart would break, jumped up, bounded across the carpet in a series of graceful pirouettes, and then, throwing herself upon the floor, indulged in a peal of silvery laughter that made the room fairly echo, exclaiming--

"What a d----d old fool that man is! Oh, I shall die--I shall positively suffocate with mirth!"

The Chevalier, throwing aside every appearance of indignation and dignity, placed himself in that humorous and rather vulgar position, sometimes adopted by jocose youths, who wish to intimate to their friends the fact that any individual has been most egregiously "sucked in." Fearing that the uninitiated may not readily comprehend this pantomimic witticism, we may as well state, for their enlightenment, that it is accomplished by applying the thumb to the tip of the nose, and executing a series of gyrations with the open hand; the whole affair being a very playful and ingenious invention, much practised by newsboys, cabmen, second-hand clothes dealers, and sporting gentlemen.

"A cool five thousand!" shouted the Chevalier, abandoning this comic picture, and "squaring off" at his reflection in the mirror, in the most approved style of the pugilistic art--as if he were about to give himself a "punch in the head," for being such a funny, clever dog; "bravo! I'll go and get the cheque cashed at once; and then hurrah for a brilliant season of glorious dissipation! But, my d.u.c.h.ess, how the devil did you mange to get the old fool so infatuated--so crazy with pa.s.sion?

for I stood over ten minutes looking at both of you through the key-hole, before I entered the room, and I never before saw a man act so extravagantly ludicrous; it was only with extreme difficulty that I could keep myself from laughing outright. And you, witch that you are, looked as if you were panting and dying with amorous desires. By my soul, 'twas admirably done!"

The d.u.c.h.ess smiled with gratification at the praise; and arising from the carpet, on which she had been literally _rolling_ in the excess of her mirth, threw herself upon the sofa in an att.i.tude of voluptuous abandonment; and while complacently viewing her matchless leg, she said--

"For your especial entertainment, my Chevalier, I will relate all that transpired between me and the old goat, after your departure. At first, he a.s.sailed me with a profusion of silly, sickening compliments on my beauty; I blushed, (you know how well I _can_ blush, when I try,) and a.s.sured him that his praises were divine--so eloquent, so elegantly conveyed--and yet I thought them intolerably stupid. Then I gave him my hand to kiss; and its contact with his lips made him as amorous as I could possibly desire. He knelt at my feet; then arose, apologizing for his rudeness. I threw all my powers of fascination into my looks, and permitted him to take a seat by my side, on the sofa. At first, he sat apart from me; but at last, gaining courage, he moved close to me, and gently placed his arm around my waist; of course, I did not repulse him.

With secret joy I observed the eagerness with which he regarded such parts of my person as were exposed--and I took good care to reveal it liberally; how the odious old wretch gloated upon this bust, which you, my Chevalier, p.r.o.nounce so charming! At last, he kissed me--ugh! how horribly the old creature's breath smelt! But I pretended to be more pleased than angry; and from my lips his nauseous mouth wandered to my neck, my shoulders, my bosom. I fairly shuddered as he besmeared me with his disgusting kisses; and thinking that he had gone far enough, for that time, I burst from his embrace, and reproached him (but not too severely,) for his rude behavior--taking good care, however, to fan his pa.s.sions into a still fiercer flame, by telling him that my reason for particularly dreading such familiarities, was, that they had a tendency to excite my own desires to a degree that was dangerous to my honor. As I foresaw, this artful a.s.surance was received by him with ill-concealed delight. He begged my pardon; it is needless to say, I forgave him, and suffered him to resume his seat at my side, on condition that he would take no further liberties, knowing very well that he could not long keep his promise. Then came more compliments; I sang and played for him, and he was beyond measure delighted. After a short conversation on the secluded manner in which I lived, and the loneliness which I felt, I confessed to him that I was half in love with him; while at the same time I thought him the most disgusting old brute in existence. In return for my pleasing lie, he pressed my hand fervently, and requested me to relate to him the story of my life, from "my own rosy lips," as he said.