passed. Then, disgusted with myself, I endeavored to be comforted with
the idea that they had perhaps mistaken me for some one else; that
having known me at a time when I was unable to walk, they could have no
idea of my height and figure, or walk. So I reasoned, turning down a
side street. Lo! at a respectable distance they were following! We had
occasion to go into a daguerreau salon. While standing in the light,
two gray uniforms, watching us from the dark recess at the door,
attracted my attention. Pointing them out to Ada, I hurried her past
them downstairs to the street. Faster and faster we walked, until at
the corner I turned to look. There they were again, sauntering
leisurely along. We turned into another street, mingled in the crowd,
and finally lost sight of them. That fright lasted me an hour or two.
Whose purse have I stolen, that I am afraid to look these men in the
face?

But what has this to do with what I meant to tell? How loosely and
disconnectedly my ideas run out with the ink from my pen! I meant to
say how sorry I am for my dear little lisper that she failed in her
efforts to conquer the "Hero"; and here I have drifted off in a page of
trash that does not concern her in the least. Well! she did not
succeed, and whatever she told him was told in vain, as far as _she_
was concerned. He was not to be caught! What an extraordinary man!
Dozens fighting for the preference, and he in real, or pretended
ignorance.

I must do him the justice to say he is the most guileless, as well as
the most honest of mortals. He told the mother of a rich and pretty
daughter what he thought of me; that my superior did not exist on
earth, and my equal he had never met. Ha! ha! this pathetic story makes
me laugh in spite of myself. Is it excess of innocence, or just a role
he adopted? Stop! His idle word is as good as an oath. He could not
pretend to what he did not believe. He told her of his earnest and
sincere admiration--words! words! hurry on! She asked how it was
then--? Here he confessed, with a mixture of pride and penitence, that
he had written me letters which absolutely required answers, and to
which I had never deigned to reply by even a word. That, mortified
beyond measure at my silent contempt, he had tried every means of
ascertaining the cause of my coldness, but I had never vouchsafed an
answer, but had left him to feel the full force of my harsh treatment
without one word of explanation. That when he wa