roached their completion, a gloomy feeling of dread
oppressed me. I feared that when the Vedas were finished my master would
no longer require my services. But he relieved my fears by reengaging
me, and expressing a desire to retain me as his secretary until I became
too famous and too proud to fill the office contentedly.

Scarcely was this cause of dread removed when another, more terrible
still, overtook me.

One evening he took me with him to a literary _reuenion_, at which every
_bel-esprit_ of the capital was to be present. At first I refused to go,
for I feared that the eyes of some of my own sex might penetrate my
disguise; but he seemed so much hurt at my refusal that I was forced to
withdraw it. The soiree was a very brilliant one. But little notice was
taken of the shy, awkward, silent youth, who glided from room to room,
hovering ever near the spot where his beloved, master stood or sat, in
conversation with the gifted of both sexes. How I envied the ladies
whose hands he touched, and to whom his polite attentions were
addressed. For, as I have said, my master was a man of the world,
wealthy and distinguished; and notwithstanding his advanced years,
ladies still courted his attentions.

There was one lady in particular, who spared no pains to attract him to
herself. She was the widow of a celebrated _litterateur_ and was herself
well known as a brilliant but shallow writer. She was not young, but she
was well-preserved, and owed much to the arts of the toilet. I saw her
lavishing her smiles and blandishments on my dear master; I saw that he
was not insensible to the power of her charms, artificial as they were;
and a cruel jealousy fastened, like the vulture of Prometheus, on my
vitals.

Could I but have entered the lists with her on equal ground; could I but
have appeared before him in my own proper person, arrayed in appropriate
and maidenly costume, I felt sure of gaining the victory, for I had
youth on my side; I had already an interest in his heart; but, alas! I
could not do this without first announcing myself as an impostor, as a
liar and deceiver, to the man whose good opinion I prized above all
earthly things.

A dreadful thought now rested on my mind day and night: What if this
woman should accomplish her designs? What if my master should marry her?
What would then become of me?

But I was spared this trial.

The translation was finished; it was in the hands of the publisher; and
the proof