ious
interests that I had at stake, in taking any advantage of any book in
the Major's house. The men differ from this view, and declare that I
ought to have put back the volume in blue velvet unopened, carefully
guarding myself from any after-temptation to look at it again by locking
the cupboard door. I dare say the men are right.

Being a woman, however, I opened the book without a moment's hesitation.

The leaves were of the finest vellum, with tastefully designed
illuminations all round them. And what did these highly ornamental pages
contain? To my unutterable amazement and disgust, they contained locks
of hair, let neatly into the center of each page, with inscriptions
beneath, which proved them to be love-tokens from various ladies who had
touched the Major's susceptible heart at different periods of his life.
The inscriptions were written in other languages besides English, but
they appeared to be all equally devoted to the same curious purpose,
namely, to reminding the Major of the dates at which his various
attachments had come to an untimely end. Thus the first page exhibited
a lock of the lightest flaxen hair, with these lines beneath: "My adored
Madeline. Eternal constancy. Alas, July 22, 1839!" The next page was
adorned by a darker shade of hair, with a French inscription under it:
"Clemence. Idole de mon ame. Toujours fidele. Helas, 2me Avril, 1840." A
lock of red hair followed, with a lamentation in Latin under it, a note
being attached to the date of dissolution of partnership in this case,
stating that the lady was descended from the ancient Romans, and was
therefore mourned appropriately in Latin by her devoted Fitz-David.
More shades of hair and more inscriptions followed, until I was weary of
looking at them. I put down the book, disgusted with the creatures
who had assisted in filling it, and then took it up again, by an
afterthought. Thus far I had thoroughly searched everything that had
presented itself to my notice. Agreeable or not agreeable, it was
plainly of serious importance to my own interests to go on as I had
begun, and thoroughly to search the book.

I turned over the pages until I came to the first blank leaf. Seeing
that they were all blank leaves from this place to the end, I lifted the
volume by the back, and, as a last measure of precaution, shook it so as
to dislodge any loose papers or cards which might have escaped my notice
between the leaves.

This time my patience was re