ew York broker named
Theodore Raub, who, possessing a handsome person, easy and elegant
address, a melodious, yet manly voice, and a fascinating style of
conversation, was received by the fair Marie with considerable favor,
and he became a daily visitor, and ultimately her acknowledged lover.

Theodore Raub was a thorough man of the world, and deeply versed in all
the mysteries and intricacies of the human heart: and especially was he
an able anatomist of the female mind, which he could dissect and
comprehend in an instant; and on the occasion of one of his visits to
the beauteous French girl, after promising her marriage, the emotions
which she experienced were not lost upon him. He perceived and
deciphered them almost as soon as they had sprung into existence, and he
saw in a moment that he had conquered. He had taken her hand, which she
had not withdrawn, and when he pressed his burning kisses on her lips,
the roseate blushes which suffused her cheeks were indicative of a deep
and burning joy, and Raub well knew by the melting voluptuousness which
beamed in her eyes that the hour had come when he could secure his
victim.

Marie, awakening as it were from a dream, struggled to extricate
herself, but he murmured impassioned words and vows and protestations in
her ear, and with kisses he stifled the remonstrances and the
beseechings which rose to her lips. But suddenly a strong sense of
danger flashed into the mind of Marie; aye, and therewith a feeling that
all this was wrong, very wrong; so that the virtuous principle which was
innate in her woman's nature, asserted its empire that very instant. The
immediate consequence was that, recovering all her presence of mind and
casting off in a moment the voluptuous languor that had come over her,
Marie tore herself from his embrace, exclaiming:

"Oh! Theodore, Theodore, is this your love for me? Would you ruin my
body and my soul? Have pity on me. Have pity on me."

"Marie," said Theodore, "you love me not; you will drive me mad," he
exclaimed, and he turned abruptly away, as if about to leave the room.

"He says that I love him not!" cried Marie, wildly, as she sprang to her
feet, and in another moment she was again clasped in her lover's arms.

Raub was not less expert in soothing the soul of Marie that was now
stricken with remorse, and in quieting the anguished alarms that
succeeded the moments of pleasure, and under reiterated promises of
marriage, poor Marie reta