riend,
that I am each day becoming more and more the slave of her
attractions. If in society she exhibits her varied
accomplishments, on the other hand, when we are alone, she is the
simple and unsophisticated girl. During our _tete-a-tetes_,
however, it has not escaped me that she is frequently melancholy;
a something seems at times to weigh upon her spirits; and,
although she evidently struggles to hide this, she has been
unable to conceal it from my close and interested observation.
Yes, my friend, interested, for deeply interested I am in all
that concerns Natalie; and, I own to you, that in spite of her
mask, in spite of the mystery that surrounds her, nothing would
make me so happy as to call her mine.

_27th June._--A week ago it was Natalie's birth-day. She had felt
herself somewhat indisposed, and had begged the Marchese not to
invite any guests. Nevertheless, when I called to offer my good
wishes on the occasion, they kept me there till evening. We then
walked out in the garden--Natalie and myself, that is to say--and
sat down upon a rustic seat, amidst a cluster of flowering shrubs
that perfumed the air around us. I know not of what we spoke,
but, after a short time, I found myself with my arm round
Natalie's waist, her hand clasped in mine, her mask--alas! that I
cannot say her face--resting upon my shoulder. It was one of
those sweet moments with which past and future have nought to do,
but during which one lives upon the present. Gradually my lips
drew nearer and nearer to her waxen ones, but, half-jesting, she
turned her head away. I became more persevering, and without
saying any thing to her I raised my arm gently till my hand
touched her hair, amongst which the fastenings of the mask were
apparently concealed. In another moment the mystery would be
solved, and I should gaze doubtless on the most lovely
countenance that ever blessed a lover's sight. At that very
instant she uttered a sort of shriek, and sprang from my embrace.
In vain did I entreat and supplicate her to suffer me to remove
that envious mask. She was inexorable, and just then, attracted
perhaps by Natalie's cry, the Marchese appeared.

"What!" said he in a distant and somewhat angry tone and manner,
"nearly midnight, and you are still here?"

Th