bject," continued she; "are you _not_ a poet?"

"I do not deserve the name of poet, yet I will not deny that I have made
verses."

"I thought as much. What an instinct I have! O that I could prevail
upon you to write some verses to me!"

"What! without knowing either your name or having looked upon your face.
Mam'selle, I must at least set the features I am called upon to
praise."

"Ah, monsieur, you little know: were I to unmask those features, I
should stand but a poor chance of getting the verses. My plain face
would counteract all your poetic inspirations."

"Shade of Lucretia! this is no needlewoman, though dealing in weapons
quite as sharp. Modiste, indeed! I have been labouring under a
mistake. This is some _dame spirituelle_, some grand lady."

I had now grown more than curious to look upon the face of my companion.
Her conversation had won me: a woman who could talk so, I fancied,
could not be ill-looking. Such an enchanting spirit could not be hidden
behind a plain face; besides, there was the gracefulness of form, the
small gloved hand, the dainty foot and ankle demonstrated in the dance,
a voice that rang like music, and the flash of a superb eye, which I
could perceive even through the mask. Beyond a doubt, she was
beautiful.

"Lady!" I said, speaking with more earnestness than ever, "I entreat
you to unmask yourself. Were it not in a ball-room, I should beg the
favour upon my knees."

"And were I to grant it, you could hardly rise soon enough, and
pronounce your lukewarm leave-taking. Hat monsieur! think of the yellow
domino!"

"Mam'selle, you take pleasure in mortifying me. _Do_ you deem me
capable of such fickleness? Suppose for a moment, you are not what the
world calls beautiful, you could not, by removing your mask, also strip
yourself of the attractions of your conversation--of that voice that
thrills through my heart--of that grace exhibited in your every
movement! With such endowments how could a woman appear ill-looking?
If your face was even as black as hers of the yellow domino, I verily
believe I could not perceive its darkness."

"Ha, ha, ha! take care what you say, monsieur. I presume you are not
more indulgent than the rest of your sex; and well know I that, with you
men, ugliness is the greatest crime of a woman."

"I am different, I swear--"

"Do not perjure yourself, as you will if I but remove my mask. I tell
you, sir, that in spite of all the fine qualiti