her prime minister, would not suffer
her royal attendance to be diminished by the loss of a single slave. I
petitioned for a parting word, it was declined; and I had only to regret
my poetic error, or my still greater error in not keeping my raptures
under lock and key.

As the carriage drew up to the door, Mordecai casually asked me "have
you left your card at the Steyne?"

"No," was the reply. "Was it necessary?"

"Absolutely so; the prince has sent frequently to enquire for you during
your illness, and of course your leaving the neighbourhood without
acknowledging the honour would be impossible."

"Then let us drive there at once," said I.

On reaching the prince's cottage--for cottage it was, and nothing
more--the gentleman in waiting who received my card, told me that his
Royal highness had desired that whenever I called he should be apprized
of my coming, "as he wished to hear the history of the accident from
myself." The prince's fondness for hearing every thing out of the common
course, was well known; and I had only to obey. I had the honour of an
introduction accordingly; was received with all the customary graces of
his manner, and even with what attracts still more--with kindness. He
enquired into the circumstances, and was evidently taking an interest in
such parts of the narrative as I chose to give, when he was interrupted
by the arrival of a courier from London. The letters happened to be of
importance, and must be answered immediately. "But," said he, with his
irresistible smile, "I must not lose your story; we dine at seven. You
will probably meet some whom you would be gratified by seeing.
Adieu--remember, seven."

This was equivalent to a command, and there was no resource, but to
defer my journey for twelve hours more. Mordecai was not unwilling to
exchange a dreary drive in which he had no immediate concern, for the
comforts of his own home; or perhaps the honour among his neighbours of
having for an inmate a guest of the heir-apparent, qualified the delay.
Mariamne at our approach fled from the drawing-room like a frightened
doe. And at the appointed hour I was at the pretty trellised porch of
the prince's residence.

THE DEVIL'S FRILLS.

A DUTCH ILLUSTRATION OF THE WATER CURE.

CHAPTER I.

A stranger who visits Haarlem is not a little astonished to see, hung
out from various houses, little frames coquettishly ornamented with
squares of the finest lace. His curiosity will lead