tion of the face and figure of the
august personage alluded to; and you will be compelled to own
yourself the most credulous and easily duped husband that was
ever so royally supplanted in the affections of his wife.
Despise not this advice, if you would not have the world believe
you carry your devotion to your prince rather too far."

This infamous concoction was put into the post by Sarah herself, about
five o'clock in the afternoon of the day which had witnessed her
interview with the notary.

On this same day, after having given renewed directions to M. de Grauen
to expedite the arrival of Cecily in Paris by every means in his power,
Rodolph prepared to pass the evening with the Ambassadress of ----, and
on his return to call on Madame d'Harville, for the purpose of informing
her he had found a charitable intrigue worthy even of her cooeperation.

We shall now conduct our readers to the hotel of Madame d'Harville. The
following dialogue will abundantly prove that, in adopting a tone of
kind and gentle conciliation towards a husband she had hitherto treated
with such invariable coldness and reserve, the heart of Madame
d'Harville had already determined to practise the sound and virtuous
sentiments dictated by Rodolph. The marquis and his lady had just
quitted the dinner-table, and the scene we are about to describe took
place in the elegant little salon we have already spoken of. The
features of Clemence wore an expression of kindness almost amounting to
tenderness, and even M. d'Harville appeared less sad and dejected than
usual. It only remains to premise that the marquis had not as yet
received the last infamous production of the pen of Sarah Macgregor.

"What are your arrangements for this evening?" inquired M. d'Harville,
almost mechanically, of his wife.

"I have no intention of going out. And what are your own plans?"

"I hardly know," answered he, with a sigh. "I feel more than ordinarily
averse to gaiety, and I shall pass my evening, as I have passed many
others, alone."

"Nay, but why alone, since I am not going out?"

M. d'Harville gazed at his wife as though unable to comprehend her. "I
am aware," said he, "that you mentioned your intention to pass this
evening at home; still, I--"

"Pray go on, my lord."

"I did not imagine you would choose to have your solitude broken in
upon. I believe you have always expressed a wish to be alone when you
did not receive company?"

"P