be delighted to have a play, if
Madame would act the fair 'Ecossaise' again. She said she should be
delighted, but two more actors were wanted.

"That is all right," said the kind old gentleman, "I will play Montrose."

"And I, Murray," I remarked.

My lame friend, angry at this arrangement, which only left her the very
bad part of Lady Alton, could not help lancing a shaft at me.

"Oh! why isn't there a waiter's part in the play?" said she, "you would
play it so well."

"That is well said, but I hope you will teach me to play Murray even
better."

Next morning, I got the words of my part, and the ambassador told me that
the ball would be given in my honour. After dinner I went to my inn, and
after making an elaborate toilette I returned to the brilliant company.

The ambassador begged me to open the ball, and introduced me to the
highest born but not the most beautiful lady in the place. I then danced
with all the ladies present until the good-natured old man got me the
object of my vows as a partner in the quadrilles, which he did so easily
that no one could have made any remark. "Lord Murray," said he, "must
dance with no one but Lindane."

At the first pause I took the opportunity of saying that I had only come
to Soleure for her sake, that it was for her sake that I had disguised
myself at Zurich, and that I hoped she would permit me to pay my
addresses to her.

"I cannot invite you to my house," said she, "for certain sufficient
reasons; but if you will stay here some time we shall be able to see each
other. But I entreat you not to shew me any marked attention in public,
for there are those who will spy upon our actions, and it is not pleasant
to be talked about."

I was quite satisfied with this, and told her that I would do all in my
power to please her, and that the most prying eyes should have nothing to
fix on. I felt that the pleasure I looked forward to would be rendered
all the sweeter by a tincture of mystery.

I had proclaimed myself as a novice in the mimic art, and had entreated
my lame friend to be kind enough to instruct me. I therefore went to her
in the morning, but she could only flatter herself that hers was a
reflected light, as I had opportunities for paying my court to my charmer
in her house, and however great her vanity may have been, she must have
had some suspicions of the truth.

This woman was a widow, aged between thirty and forty years, of a
jaundiced complexion, and a