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(who in my opinion was called "goose-foot" because she waddled in her gait); or has he discovered the precise period when pocket-handkerchiefs were first introduced, subjects which, I know, interest him deeply? I wonder what he can have written about ?"

So saying, I replaced my spectacles, and holding the letter at arm's length, as is my custom when I read MS., I broke the seal and perused

its contents.

Had any body been by at that moment he would have seen that I was considerably agitated by them. It was, however, no interesting discovery that was the cause; it had reference neither to the Vidame de Chartres, nor the Reine Pédauque, nor in fact to any of the themes which were at once my study and my delight. Instead of an elaborate disquisition closely written and accurately punctuated, as was his wont, I beheld only two or three brief sentences which ran as follows:

"No. 10 Aux Fossés Rouges à Bordeaux "Ce 14 Fevrier 18-.

pour

"Mon cher ami,-Ce petit mot est pour vous avertir que vers le 20e. de ce mois débarquera au port de Londres, une jeune personne, bien née et parfaitement instruite, en route pour l'Ecosse où elle va se fixer soigner l'éducation de la famille d'un riche propriétaire de ce pays.-Son séjour à Londres ne sera par de longue durée, mais, dans tous les cas, je compte sur votre amiabilité de lui être utile et en même temps de lui offrir ce qu'il y a d'agrémens dans votre belle ville.-Cette jeune personne n'est pas avide du plaisir,-cela ne conviendrait pas à son état,-seulement elle est passionnée pour le spectacle. Vous en êtes amateur, ainsi, je ne pourrais m'addresser mieux qu'à vous. D'ailleurs, vous êtes le seul homme que je connaisse en Angleterre dont le cœur répond à l'esprit, Toujours à vous, "THEOPHILE Panurge, "Bachelier ès lettres."

Like the unhappy Marino Faliero, "the misty letters vanished from my sight" and the epistle itself dropped from my hand as I came to its close. Here was I-a quiet, unobtrusive, studious, middle-aged man (of fifty), suddenly hampered with the care of a volatile, frivolous Frenchwoman, "not greedy of pleasure but passionately fond of theatrical amusements,' I, who never went near a theatre-except it were the remains of a Roman one, in the shape of some questionable embankment on the Yorkshire hills or Wiltshire downs, and then only for the sublime purpose of discovery-and to be thus called upon to act as cavalière servente to a strange sort of God knows what, with every kind of illegitimate temptation about it! The very idea made me shudder.

The care-hardened man of the world may, perhaps, sneeringly ask, why the thought of the lady's arrival should cause me so much embarrassment? I might, if I pleased, refuse to answer, but I will not entrench myself behind the simple austerity of my position as a man of letters, and let that suffice; I will at once state why the intimation conveyed by Professor Panurge was of a nature peculiarly distressing.

At the period of which I am now writing, that excellent individual and most enlightened companion, the present Mrs. Dryasdust (she is hemming and felling one of my most intimate garments on the opposite side of the table at this very moment), was then the object of my most sedulous attention; not, I can assure the reader, on account of the three

per cent stock of which she was the owner, but for personal and mental graces which, apart from the setting, rendered the stone of unapproachable value.* It was my daily practice to devote not only every evening to that fair lady's company, her tea-table being enlivened by a genial, and, it may be, instructive conversation, but a considerable part of each morning was also placed at her service, when we either walked in the parks, or beguiled a few hours at the British Museum, Westminster Abbey, the Museum of Economic Geology, or some other equally lively place of amusement; so that I was by no means a free agent, even had it consorted with my inclination to dance attendance upon this perilous importation-to say nothing of the consequences if I had been caught in the manner.

I do not mean to say, that the mere fact of paying the ordinary attention to a letter of introduction would have been productive of any thing unpleasant, but to accompany a strange lady to the play, and that lady a Frenchwoman-the thing was an absolute impossibility. I inwardly devoted Professor Panurge to all the gods he did or did not worship.

After the first shock occasioned by his letter was over, I began to consider the case more calmly. It was just possible the vessel from Bordeaux might never reach London. I said to myself, with Shylock, "Ships are but boards-there are the perils of waters, winds, and rocks;" and, however unchristian the thought, I confess I should not have been inconsolable if the entire venture had gone to the bottom. The date of Panurge's letter put it wholly out of my power to write to him to prevent the threatened visitation; in all probability the vessel had already sailed when he wrote, and if his calculations were correct, in forty-eight hours or thereabouts, her precious freight would be on my hands. Nothing, therefore, was left for me but to "entertain my fate and die with decency."

The next two days were rather anxious ones. I tried to console myself with Lady Macbeth's philosophy, that "things without remedy should be without regard ;" but in spite of every effort, the vision of a smart, coquetish damsel, with an extremely neat chaussure-" cheveux peignés et lissés avec soin-(as is, I believe, the custom with French governesses) a very winning smile, dark eyes, brilliant teeth, and what they call a tournure ravissante, would keep floating before my eyes, very much to the exclusion of every other object, and greatly to the surprise of my intended, who could not at all understand the cause of my abstraction. I explained as well as I could that my mind was occupied by a very difficult inscription, which had been forwarded me to decypher from the Royal Academy of Sciences at Heligoland, and that I was uncertain whether the characters were Runic or Persepolitan ;-(had this been true and the letters arrow-headed, they could scarcely have given me more pain than Panurge's communication). My explanation was somewhat coldly received, the only observation made by the present Mrs. D being, that "there was a time for all things."

The 20th of February came,—and went as it came, with nothing to disturb me but the vague apprehension by which I was haunted. It was an odd thing, but during this period of expectation I could by no means settle to my usual occupations. I abandoned the glossary I was writing to a new edition of "The Ship of Fooles," to think of the ship that was

Note to the Printer.-Set this paragraph out in as conspicuous type as you can, that it may catch Mrs. D--'s eye-but take care not to print this instruction at the same time, as she frequently has a fancy for reading my articles.

on its way from Bordeaux, and instead of the books to which I commonly resorted for recreation, such as Dugdale's "Monasticon," Rymer's "Fœdera," and such like, I found myself constantly engaged in the perusal of a handful of French novels, which I had procured from my friend Mr. Jeffs, of the Burlington Arcade, amongst which were "La Jolie Fille du Faubourg;" "La Pucelle de Belleville;" "Jenny la Bouquetière;" and "L'Amoureux Transi," of Paul de Kock; "Le Mariage et l'Amour," by Madame Elise Voiart; and "Une Liaison Dangereuse," by Jules Lacroix.

For what purpose I read these volumes I could not satisfy myself, but I had a kind of idea that by doing so I should probably acquire a style more suitable in conversation with a modern French woman than the Norman French of "Percival le Gallois," "Gerard de Nevers," or the "Chevalier au Cygne," with which my studies had made me more intimately acquainted than with the lighter productions of the day. Upon whatever terrain we were to encounter, it behoved Dr. Dryasdust to meet his fair antagonist. Fair did I say? Why should my thoughts revert to outward embellishments? Did not a thousand personal graces (to say nothing of mental ones) adorn my Tryphæna (the baptismal name of Mrs. D.)?

There is a strange inconsistency in the nature of man; the 21st, the 22nd, and the 23rd of February arrived, and there were still no signs of the consignment which had been promised me, I began to be impatient -must I add,-disappointed! "O navis sighed I; "quid agis?" and I added emphatically: "Fortiter occupa portum." Had the cargo been the best vintage from Pauillac, and destined for my own cellars, I could scarcely have felt more anxiety. This, of course, was occasioned merely by common feelings of humanity, lest the vessel should have foundered. My sentiments had strangely altered,-I trust no one will believe for the worse!

However, on the 24th of February,-a day as memorable in my calendar, as in that of certain high personages, the expected event took place. I had slept rather uneasily,-a circumstance I ascribe to the fact that the "Liaison Dangereuse," which, I was reading the night before, had slipped from under my pillow and got between my shoulders,—and it was only as the morning drew on that, having removed the book, I fell into a sound slumber, though not so sound as to prevent me from dreaming. To say the truth, as nearly as I can guess, about half-past eight, A.M., I was in the act of enjoying a very agreeable vision, such a one as Virgil feigns issues from the ivory portal, when a smart rap at my bed-room door awoke me. To my inquiry, "Who was there ?" the voice of Mrs. Lynx, my laundress, made answer :

"If you please, sir; there's a forring lady wants to see you. She can't speak no English, but has got your name plain enough from a bit of paper she's a holding in her hand!"

"Ah! c'est ici la porte !" exclaimed a shrill voice almost before Mrs. Lynx had ended," je suis bien heureuse de l'avoir trouvé chez lui!"

Her hand was already on the handle of the door, and in another moment she would have penetrated into my sanctorum! I darted out of bed just as I was, and rushed to the door, shouting, with all my might, Mais,―madame,-mademoiselle, on ne peut pas entrer!" "Pourquoi ça, monsieur !" demanded the shrill voice.

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"Parceque-parceque, mademoiselle,-je n'ai pas encore mis monenfin, je ne suis pas habillé."

"Qu'est ce que ça fait, monsieur?" replied the unseen, giving the door a rude secousse,-" retournez dans votre lit,-là vous pourriez causer à votre aise."

"Impossible, madame" (she must be a madame, thought I), and as I spoke I barred the door firmly by leaning against it with all my weight, and planting one foot against a chest of drawers that stood near,"attendez un instant,- -un instant seulement, et je serai auprès de vous!" "Dépêchez-vous donc, monsieur," was the answer. "J'ai bien des

choses à vous dire."

There was neither lock nor bolt to the door, so that, in the uncomfortable position I have described, I was obliged to array myself, scrambling on such things as chance, not choice, threw in my way, and while I was engaged in doing so, I could hear the French lady humming a tune and Mrs. Lynx growling any thing but an agreeable accompaniment, amidst which my practised ear easily recognised the epithets "forring minx!" and "himperdent uzzy!"

"There will be a row between 'em," said I, completing my toilet as hastily as I could, and with an additional motive for haste, the fair stranger having begun again to drum against the door, so I opened it and confronted the intruder!

There is nothing more common than for people, when they describe a state of surprise, to say, "I thought I should have sunk into the earth!" The expression, therefore, is not new, but it was the most apposite that could have been devised to picture my astonishment. From the first moment of my reading the letter of Professor Panurge, the phrase, "une jeune personne," had served as a text for my fancy to amplify, and that faculty had not been idle; the reader may indeed gather, from some words already dropped, a slight notion of what I expected. Let him imagine, then, the horror with which I gazed on an absolute Gorgon! There she stood-a sallow, dark-browed, hard-featured, elderly, illdressed Gorgon! She had a desperate cast in one eye, and the other, hard and black as a bead, sparkled like a live coal; her hair was combed à la Chinoise, entirely off her forehead, but to make up for its absence there, a strong garniture of stiff sable adorned her upper lip, beneath which gleamed any thing but orient pearls, however much the stumpy teeth (to which in imagination I had compared them) were at random strung." In one respect she resembled the flowers of the field, but it was only after they had been some time gathered. The whole of her costume, from her yellow bonnet to her ponceau boots, including a crimson shawl and a black silk gown, was utterly "faded and gone;" and but for the brisk angularity of her form and the harsh vivacity of her countenance, she might have passed for a lay figure in a rag-shop, that had seen a good deal of wear and tear. To what purpose had I been reading up my Paul de Kock? Where was the probability of a "liaison dangereuse?" "Transi" I certainly was, but not in the way I had anticipated. It was as well, perhaps, that Tryphæna was not by to witness my disappointment.

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But if the lady was deficient in beauty, she was by no means wanting in assurance. Seeing that I did not speak-I was too much overcome

to do so she broke forth :

"Eh bien! monsieur," cried she, with a creaking laugh, swinging a black reticule round and round in one hand (the other held a dirty white parasol); "eh bien, monsieur,-vous m'avez attendu, n'est-ce-pas?

Vous aurez reçu la lettre de Panurge, le petit gamin qu'il est! Il vous a parlé de moi,-Eugènie Loriot!-je me rends en Ecosse,-attendu que je me repose ici en peu à Londres après ce diable de voyage. Figurezvous comme j'ai souffert avec ce détestable mal de mer,-moi qui n'avais jamais quitté mon pays! Ah, c'était affreux, c'était desolant. Il y a dix jours je n'ai rien mangé,―rien bu! Jugez donc si je devois avoir faim! Il n'y a pas dix minutes que je suis descendue avec mes effets à l'hôtel à côte;-et cependant me voici pour vous faire visite,―attaquer à votre dejeuner n'est-ce-pas!"

I was literally, as the saying is, "struck all of a heap." Mademoiselle Loriot's free and easy manner, no less than her forbidding aspect, had quite dumb-founded me, and what added to my embarrassment was the malicious scowl with which Mrs. Lynx, who still lingered in the room and was apparently engaged in dusting some books, still eyed me.

"Que veut dire cette femme!" demanded the charming Eugènie; "c'est votre bonne n'est-ce-pas ?"

I feebly stammered out an affirmative.

"Eh bien, qu'elle me cherche à dejeuner," exclaimed my visitor "ne vous ai-je par dit que j'avais une faim de tous les diables ?"

I saw at once that there was no temporising with this imperious woman. "Mrs. Lynx," said I, addressing that individual in as firm a tone as I could muster (he who speaks without his braces and is compelled to use his left-hand as a substitute, cannot be expected to be very firm), "have the goodness to get some breakfast. Will madame"-for the life of me I couldn't say "mademoiselle" when I looked at her,—“ will madame take tea or coffee? Does she prefer eggs or cutlets?"

"Je prendrai du thé," replied the lady, "et je mangerai volontiers quelques côtelettes,-des œufs et des petits pains au lait ajoutez tout ce que vous voudrez,-je ne connais pas les habitudes de ce pays-ci. Attendez, vous n'avez pas du pôtage par exemple ?"

"Good God!" I exclaimed inwardly, "was there ever such a harpy !" "No, Madame," I returned, "we don't eat soup before breakfast in England."

Tant pis pour vous," said Mademoiselle Loriot, "quel drôle de pays! Ah, voilà," she continued, after rummaging in her bag for a moment, "voilà un petit poulet pour vous amuser, ça vient de Panurge. Il vous a écrit de belles choses à mon égard ; je le sais, parceque j'ai déja lu son billet ainsi vous n'avez qu' à faire.'

So saying, she turned briskly round, took off her bonnet and shawl, threw them on the sofa, and went up to the looking-glass over the fireplace, where she took out a comb and began to arrange her Chineselooking head, smiling all the time with a dreadful obliquity of vision, but seemingly as perfectly content with herself as if the mirror had reflected the image of a Venus.

I took advange of her occupation to retreat into my bed-room where, not daring to commence the operation of shaving, I hastily made myself as decent as I possibly could. When I emerged from my den the fire was blazing, the kettle singing on the hob, the breakfast things on the table, and Mademoiselle Eugènie making tea, with as much composure as if,-heaven forgive me for the thought-she had been for twenty years the legitimate Mrs. D.

I must pause a moment before I resume the thread of my narrative.

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