t expensive
_chevelures_.

He was trembling as he arranged them upon his table; not that he was
aware of the enormity of the act he contemplated, but he was afraid the
goddess might revisit the marble while he was engaged upon it.

He furnished the blank eye-sockets with a pair of eyes, which, if not
exactly artistic, at least supplied a want; he pencilled the eyebrows,
laid on several coats of the "Bloom," which he suffused cunningly with a
tinge of carnation, and stained the pouting lips with his "Conserve of
Coral."

So far, perhaps, he had not violated the canons of art, and may even
have restored to the image something of its pristine hues; but his next
addition was one the vandalism of which admits of no possible defence,
and when he deftly fitted the coiffure of light closely-curled hair upon
the noble classical head, even Leander felt dimly that something was
wrong!

"I don't know how it is," he pondered; "she looks more natural, but not
half so respectable. However, when she's got something on to cover the
marble, there won't be anything much to notice about her. I'll buy a
cloak for her the first thing to-morrow morning. Matilda was saying
something about a shop near here where I could get that. And then, if
this Venus must come following me about, she'll look less outlandish at
any rate, and that's something!"

A FURTHER PREDICAMENT

VII.

"So long as the world contains us both,
Me the loving and you the loth,
While the one eludes, must the other pursue."

_Browning._

Immediately after breakfast the next day, Leander went out and paid a
visit to Miss Twilling's, bringing away with him a hooded cloak of the
precise kind he remembered Matilda to have described as unlikely to
render its owner conspicuous. With this garment he succeeded in
disguising the statue to such a degree, that it was far less likely than
before that the goddess's appearance in public would excite any
particular curiosity--a result which somewhat relieved his anxiety as to
her future proceedings.

But all that day his thoughts were busy with Matilda. He must, he
feared, have deeply offended her by his abrupt change on the previous
night; and now he could not expect to meet her again for days, and would
not know how to explain his conduct if he did meet her.

If he could only dare to tell her everything; but from such a course he
shrank. Matilda would not only be extremely indignant (