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And does the Count de B

said I, read Shakespeare?

C'est un esprit fort, replied the bookseller. He loves English books; and, what is more to his honor, Monsieur, he loves the English too. You speak this so civilly, said I, that it is enough to oblige an Englishman to lay out a louis d'or or two at your shop. The bookseller made a bow, and was going to say something, when a young decent girl, about twenty, who by her air and dress seemed to be fille de chambre to some devout woman of fashion, came into the shop and asked for Les Egarements du Cœur et de l'Esprit. The bookseller gave her the book directly; she pulled out a little green satin purse, run round with a ribbon of the same color, and, putting her finger and thumb into it, she took out the money and paid for it. As I had nothing more to stay me in the shop, we both walked out of the door together.

And what have you to do, my dear, said I, with The Wanderings of the Heart, who scarce know yet you have one? nor, till Love has first told you it, or some faithless shepherd has made it ache, canst thou ever be sure it is so. Le Dieu m'en garde! said the girl. With reason, said I; for if it is a good one, 'tis a pity it should be stolen; 'tis a little treasure to thee, and gives a better air to your face, than if it was dressed out with pearls.

The young girl listened with a submissive attention, holding her satin purse by its ribbon in her hand all the time. "Tis a very small one, said I, taking hold of the bottom of it (she held it towards me), and there is very little in it, my dear, said I; but be but as good as thou art handsome, and Heaven will fill it. I had a parcel of crowns in my hand to pay for Shakespeare; and as she had let go the purse entirely, I put a single one in, and, tying up the ribbon in a bow-knot, returned it to her.

The young girl made me more a humble courtesy than a low one: 'twas one of those quiet, thankful sinkings, where the spirit bows itself down-the body does no more than tell it. I never gave a girl a crown in my life which gave me half the pleasure.

My advice, my dear, would not have been worth a pin to you, said I, if I had not given this along with it; but now, when you see the crown, you'll remember it; so don't, my dear, lay it out in ribbons.

Upon my word, sir, said the girl, earnestly, I am incapable: in saying which, as is usual in little bargains of honor, she gave me her hand: En vérité, Monsieur, je mettrai cet argent apart, said she.

When a virtuous convention is made betwixt man and woman, it sanctifies their most private walks: so, notwithstanding it was dusky, yet as both our roads lay the same way; we made no scruple of walking along the Quai de Conti together.

She made me a second courtesy in setting off; and before we got twenty yards from the door, as if she had not done enough before, she made a sort of a little stop, to tell me again -she thanked me.

It was a small tribute, I told her, which I could not avoid paying to virtue, and would not be mistaken in the person I had been rendering it to for the world; but I see innocence, my dear,

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in your face, and foul befall the man who ever lays a suare in its way!

The girl seemed affected, some way or other, with what I said: she gave a low sigh; I found I was not empowered to inquire at all after it, so said nothing more till I got to the corner of the Rue de Nevers, where we were to part.

But is this the way, my dear, said I, to the Hotel de Modène? She told me it was; or that I might go by the Rue de Guenegault, which was the next turn. Then I'll go, my dear, by the Rue de Guenegault, said I, for two reasons: first, I shall please myself; and next, I shall give you the protection of my company as far on your way as I can. The girl was sensible I was civil, and said she wished the Hotel de Modène was in the Rue de St. Pierre. You live there? said I. She told me she was fille de chambre to Madame R. Good God! said I, 'tis the very lady for whom I have brought a letter from Amiens. The girl told me that Madame R-, she believed, expected a stranger with a letter, and was impatient to see him. So I desired the girl to present my compliments to Madame R, and say I would certainly wait upon her in the morning.

We stood still at the corner of the Rue de Nevers whilst this passed. We then stopped a moment whilst she disposed of her Egarements du Cœur, etc., more commodiously than carrying them in her hand: they were two volumes; so I held the second for her whilst she put the first into her pocket, and then she held her pocket, and I put in the other after it.

'Tis sweet to feel by what fine-spun threads our affections are drawn together.

We set off afresh; and as she took her third step, the girl put her hand within my arm. I was just bidding her, but she did it of herself, with that undeliberating simplicity, which

showed it was out of her head that she had never seen me before. For my own part, I felt the conviction of consanguinity so strongly, that I could not help turning half round to look in her face, and see if I could trace out anything in it of a family likeness. Tut! said I, are we not all relations?

When we arrived at the turning up of the Rue de Guenegault, I stopped to bid her adieu for good and all: the girl would thank me again for my company and kindness. She bid me adieu twice; I repeated it as often; and so cordial was the parting between us, that had it happened anywhere else, I'm not sure but I should have signed it with a kiss of charity, as warm and holy as an apostle.

But in Paris as none kiss each other but the men, I did what amounted to the same thing: I bid God bless her!

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4

THE PASSPORT.

PARIS.

WHEN I got home to my hotel, La Fleur told me I had been inquired after by the Lieutenant de Police. The deuce take it, said I; I know the reason. It is time the reader should know it, for, in the order of things in which it happened, it was omitted; not that it was out of my might have been forgot

head, but that, had I told it then, it and now is the time I want it.

now;

I had left London with so much precipitation, that it never entered my mind that we were at war with France; and had

M

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