and having said that, he put on his hat and walked out.

Good God! said I to myself, as he and can this man be the hus

went out

band of this woman?

Let it not torment the few who know what must have been the grounds of this exclamation, if I explain it to those who do not.

In London, a shopkeeper and a shopkeeper's wife seem to be one bone and one flesh in the several endowments of mind and body, sometimes the one, sometimes the other has it, so as in general to be upon a par, and to tally with each other as nearly as man and wife need to do.

In Paris, there are scarce two orders of beings more different; for the legislative and executive powers of the shop not resting in the husband, he seldom comes there-in some dark and dismal room behind, he sits commerceless in his thrumb

night-cap, the same rough son of Nature that Nature left him.

The genius of a people where nothing but the monarchy is salique, having ceded this department, with sundry others, totally to the women-by a continual higgling with customers of all ranks and sizes from morning to night, like so many rough pebbles shook long together in a bag, by amicable collisions they have worn down their asperities and sharp angles, and not only become round and smooth, but will receive, some of them, a polish like a brilliant-Monsieur le Mari is little better than the stone under your foot

-Surely-surely, man! it is not good for thee to sit alone-thou wast made for social intercourse and gentle greetings, and this improvement of our natures from it, I appeal to as my evidence.

And how does it beat, Monsieur? said she-With all the benignity, said I, looking quietly in her eyes, that I expected.

-She was going to say something civil in return-but the lad came into the shop with the gloves-A propos, said I, I want a couple of pair myself.

THE beautiful Grisset rose up when I said this, and going behind the counter, reached down a parcel, and untied it; I advanced to the side over-against her: -they were all too large. The beautiful Grisset measured them one by one across my hand-It would not alter the dimensions-She begged I would try a single pair, which seemed to be the least -she held it open-my hand slipped into it at once-It will not do, said I, shaking

my

head a little-No, said she, doing the same thing.

There are certain combined looks of simple subtlety-where whim, and sense, and seriousness, and nonsense, are so blended, that all the languages of Babel let loose together could not express them -they are communicated and caught so instantaneously, that you can scarce say which party is the infector. I leave it to your men of words to swell pages about it-it is enough in the present to say again, the gloves would not do: so folding our hands within our arms, we both lolled upon the counter-it was narrow, and there was just room for the parcel to lay between us.

The beautiful Grisset looked sometimes at the gloves, then sideways to the window, then at the gloves-and then at me. I was not disposed to break silence-I followed her example; so I looked at the gloves, then to the window, then at the

gloves, and then at her-and so on alternately.

I found I lost considerably in every attack-she had a quick black eye, and shot through two such long and silken eye-lashes with such penetration, that she looked into my very heart and reins-it may seem strange, but I could actually feel she did.

It is no matter, said I, taking up a couple of the pairs next me, and putting them into my pocket.

I was sensible the beautiful Grisset had not asked more than a single livre above the price-I wished she had asked a livre more, and was puzzling my brains how to bring the matter about-Do you think, my dear Sir, said she, mistaking my embarrassment, that I could ask a sous too much. of a stranger-and of a stranger whose politeness, more than his want of gloves, has done me the honor to lay himself at my mercy?-Men croyez capable?—