THE TEMPTATION.

PARIS.

WHEN I alighted at the hotel, the porter told me, a young woman with a band-box had been that moment enquiring for me. I do not know, said the porter, whether she is gone away or no. I took the key of my chamber of him, and went up stairs; and when I had got within ten steps of the top of the landing before my door, I met her coming easily down.

It was the fair fille de chambre I had walked along the Quai de Conti withMadame de R*** had sent her upon some commissions to a marchande des modes within a step or two of the hotel de Modene; and as I had failed in wait

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ing upon her, had bid her enquire if I had left Paris; and if so, whether I had not left a letter addressed to her.

As the fair fille de chambre was so near my door, she returned back, and went into the room with me for a moment or two whilst I wrote a card.

It was a fine still evening, in the latter end of the month of May-the crimson window curtains (which were of the same colour as those of the bed) were drawn close-the sun was setting, and reflected through them so warm a tint into the fair fille de chambre's face-I thought she blushed the idea of it made me blush myself we were quite alone; and that superinduced a second blush before the first could get off.

There is a sort of a pleasing half-guilty blush, where the blood is more in fault than the man-it is sent impetuous from the heart, and virtue flies after it--not to call it back, but to make the sensation of

it more delicious to the nerves it is associated.

But I will not describe it-I felt some thing at first within me, which was not in strict unison with the lesson of virtue I had given her the night before I sought five minutes for a card-I knew I had not one I took up a pen-Į laid it down again my hand trembled-the devil was in me.

I know as well as any one he is an adversary, whom if we resist, he will fly from us but I seldom resist him at all; from a terror, that though I may conquer, I may still get a hurt in the combat-so I give up the triumph for security; and instead of thinking to make him fly, I generally fly myself.

The fair fille de chambre came close up to the bureau where I was looking for a card-took up first the pen I had cast down, then offered to hold me the ink:-she offered it so sweetly, I was going to

accept it but I durst not. I have nothing, my dear, said I, to write uponWrite it, said she, simply, upon any thing.

I was just going to cry out-then I will write it, fair girl! upon thy lips.

If I do, said I, I shall perish-so I took her by the hand, and led her to the door, and begged she would not forget the lesson I had given her-She said, indeed she would not-and as she uttered it with some earnestness, she turned about, and gave me both her hands, closed together, into mine-it was impossible not to compress them in that situation.-I wished to let them go; and all the time I held them, I kept arguing within myself against itand still I held them on. In two minutes I found I had all the battle to fight over ágain—and I felt my legs and every limb about me tremble at the idea.

The foot of the bed was within a yard. and, a half of the place where we were