yet, you know,
she is not all monotonous mildness; you have seen, with a sort of
strange pleasure, revolt, scorn, austerity, bitterness, lay energetic
claim to a place in her feelings and physiognomy; you know that few
could rule her as you do; you know she might break, but never bend under
the hand of Tyranny and Injustice, but Reason and Affection can guide
her by a sign. Try their influence now. Go--they are not passions; you
may handle them safely."

"I will NOT go was my answer to the sweet temptress. A man is master
of himself to a certain point, but not beyond it. Could I seek Frances
to-night, could I sit with her alone in a quiet room, and address her
only in the language of Reason and Affection?"

"No," was the brief, fervent reply of that Love which had conquered and
now controlled me.

Time seemed to stagnate; the sun would not go down; my watch ticked, but
I thought the hands were paralyzed.

"What a hot evening!" I cried, throwing open the lattice; for, indeed, I
had seldom felt so feverish. Hearing a step ascending the common stair,
I wondered whether the "locataire," now mounting to his apartments, were
as unsettled in mind and condition as I was, or whether he lived in the
calm of certain resources, and in the freedom of unfettered feelings.
What! was he coming in person to solve the problem hardly proposed in
inaudible thought? He had actually knocked at the door--at MY door; a
smart, prompt rap; and, almost before I could invite him in, he was over
the threshold, and had closed the door behind him.

"And how are you?" asked an indifferent, quiet voice, in the English
language; while my visitor, without any sort of bustle or introduction,
put his hat on the table, and his gloves into his hat, and drawing
the only armchair the room afforded a little forward, seated himself
tranquilly therein.

"Can't you speak?" he inquired in a few moments, in a tone whose
nonchalance seemed to intimate that it was much the same thing whether
I answered or not. The fact is, I found it desirable to have recourse to
my good friends "les besicles;" not exactly to ascertain the identity of
my visitor--for I already knew him, confound his impudence! but to see
how he looked--to get a clear notion of his mien and countenance.
I wiped the glasses very deliberately, and put them on quite as
deliberately; adjusting them so as not to hurt the bridge of my nose
or get entangled in my short tufts of dun hair. I was sitting