ough a wilderness of pavilions, forests, clouds
and cataracts, and at length arrived at a little door, at which he
knocked gently.

"Come in," said a soft voice inside. We opened, and beheld a very
beautiful young woman, in Tyrolese costume. She was to perform in the
afterpiece--her low boddice and short scarlet petticoat displaying the
most perfect symmetry of form and roundness of proportion. She was
dressing her hair before a low glass as we came in, and scarcely turned
at our approach; but in an instant, as if some sudden thought had struck
her, she sprung fully round, and looking at me fixedly for above a
minute--a very trying one for me--she glanced at her husband, whose
countenance plainly indicated that she was right, and calling out,
"C'est lui--c'est bien lui," threw herself into my arms, and sobbed
convulsively.

"If this were to be the only fruits of my impersonation," thought I, "it
is not so bad--but I am greatly afraid these good people will find out a
wife and seven babies for me before morning."

Whether the manager thought that enough had been done for stage effect,
I know not; but he gently disengaged the lovely Amelie, and deposited her
upon a sofa, to a place upon which she speedily motioned me by a look
from a pair of very seducing blue eyes.

"Francois, mon cher, you must put off La Chaumiere. I can't play
to-night."

"Put it off! But only think of the audience, ma mie--they will pull down
the house."

"C'est possible," said she, carelessly. "If that give them any pleasure,
I suppose they must be indulged; but I, too, must have a little of my own
way. I shall not play."

The tone this was said in--the look--the easy gesture of command--no less
than the afflicted helplessness of the luckless husband, showed me that
Amelie, however docile as a sweetheart, had certainly her own way as
wife.

While Le cher Francois then retired, to make his proposition to the
audience, of substituting something for the Chaumiere--the "sudden
illness of Madame Baptiste having prevented her appearance,"--we began to
renew our old acquaintance, by a thousand inquiries from that long-past
time, when we were sweethearts and lovers.

"You remember me then so well?" said I.

"As of yesterday. You are much taller, and your eyes darker; but
still--there is something. You know, however, I have been expecting to
see you these two days; and tell me frankly how do you find me looking?"

"More beautiful, a t