end--

"By the way, my dear Chevalier, you remember that you long since
promised to introduce me to a sister of yours, whose charms you highly
extolled. I am anxious to see if she really merits your somewhat
extravagant praise. I have a few hours of leisure to-day, and if you
will present me to her, I shall be delighted."

"Certainly, my good sir, certainly," rejoined the Chevalier--"the
distance is but trifling, and if you will do me the honor to accompany
me, to my humble abode, you shall be made acquainted with the most
beautiful woman in Boston. My sister is called the _Duchess_, and as
mystery is the peculiar characteristic of myself and family, you will
have the kindness to address her by that title."

Mr. Tickels expressed his thanks; and the two gentlemen proceeded to
Somerset street, wherein stood the residence of the Chevalier. It was a
house of modest exterior, very plain but respectable in appearance; yet
the interior was furnished very handsomely. On entering the house,
Duvall directed a servant to inform the Duchess that he had brought a
gentleman to be introduced to her; and in about a quarter of an hour the
lady sent word that she was prepared to receive her brother and his
friend in her _boudoir_. Accordingly, the gentlemen ascended to that
apartment; and on entering, Mr. Tickels stood for a few moments rooted
to the floor with astonishment.

It was a small chamber, but furnished with every indication of the most
exquisite taste. Fresh flowers, smiling from beautiful vases, scented
the air with their delicious perfume; classic statuary adorned every
corner, and gorgeous drapery at the windows excluded the glare of day,
producing a kind of soft twilight. Voluptuous paintings, with frames
superbly carved and gilded, ornamented the walls; and the footsteps fell
noiseless on the rich and yielding Turkish carpet. A splendid harp and
piano evinced the musical taste of the tenant of that elegant retreat.

But it was not the fragrance of flowers, or the beauties of sculpture,
or the divine skill of the painter, that enthralled the senses of Mr.
Tickels, and caused him to pause as if spell-bound in the centre of the
room. No--his gaze was riveted upon a female form that reclined upon a
sofa; and now we are almost inclined to throw down our pen in despair,
for we are conscious of our inability to describe such a glorious
perfection of womanly beauty as met the enraptured gaze of a man, whose
sensual nature a