re performing the
sexual act. I read them with avidity and they soon made me adept in
sexual knowledge. One evening when Herbert had gone to Philadelphia,
and my sister was confined to her chamber by sickness, I entered the
drawing room with one of those prizes in my hand, determined to enjoy
it all myself. I was in a state of delicious languor and, throwing
myself carelessly on the sofa, began to read my book. I wore a
low-necked dress and the weather being warm I had unfastened two or
three of the top loops--thus leaving a considerable portion of my
breasts exposed. My dress too was disarranged at my feet--revealing a
considerable portion of my limbs. As I read, my cheeks became flushed,
my bosom heaved, and I was altogether in a state propitious for an
attack. I was suddenly startled by the sound of a voice at my elbow.

"'What is the name of that book which seems to engross so much of your
attention?' said the voice.

"I raised my eyes, and who should I see but Herbert himself gazing on
me with heightened color and burning eyes.

"'It is too bad, Herbert,' I replied, raising from my seat, revealing
by this movement a considerable portion of my legs; nay, I believe he
even caught a glimpse of my thighs, 'you ought not to come so
stealthily into the room.'

"'My dear girl, you are wrong,' replied Herbert, 'I did not come here
stealthily, but it was your preoccupation which prevented you from
hearing me enter. But you have not replied to my question--what book
are you reading?'

"'Oh, it is a stupid work I found in the library, I have only just
glanced at it and do not find it worth reading.'

"'Will you allow me to judge for myself, my charming sister-in-law,' he
replied, taking a seat by my side.

"'No, Herbert, I will not allow it,' I returned, pressing the book to
my bosom.

"'I insist,' he cried, endeavoring to snatch the work from my hands. In
the struggle his hand came in contact with my bosom and he even touched
the strawberry nipples surmounting the semiglobes. At last be conquered
and obtained possession of the book. I looked imploringly at him, but
he opened it deliberately and read the title. It was The Memoirs of a
Woman of Pleasure.

"'So, so, Amy,' said he. 'This is the subject of your studies, is it?'

"'I assure you I have not read a page of it--it appeared to me foolish
and uninteresting, and I was just about to return it to the library
when you entered.'

"He knew that I did not tell t