tates, and Oeiras will probably be only too glad to
protect me to lessen the odium which attaches to his name as the murderer
of my father."

Pauline made no mystery of the names of the characters, but she may be
still alive, and I respect her too well to run the risk of wounding her,
though these Memoirs will not see the light of day during my lifetime. It
is sufficient to say that the story is known to all the inhabitants of
Lisbon, and that the persons who figure in it are public characters in
Portugal.

I lived with dear Pauline in perfect harmony, feeling my love for her
increase daily, and daily inspiring her with tenderer feelings towards
myself. But as my love increased in strength, I grew thin and feeble; I
could not sleep nor eat. I should have languished away if I had not
succeeded in gratifying my passion. On the other hand, Pauline grew
plumper and prettier every day.

"If my sufferings serve to increase your charms," said I, "you ought not
to let me die, for a dead man has no suffering."

"Do you think that your sufferings are due to your love for me?"

"Certainly."

"There may be something in it, but, believe me, the tender passion does
not destroy the appetite nor take away the power of sleep. Your
indisposition is undoubtedly due to the sedentary life you have been
leading of late. If you love me, give me a proof of it; go out for a
ride."

"I cannot refuse you anything, dearest Pauline, but what then?"

"Then you shall find me grateful to you, you will have a good appetite,
and will sleep well."

"A horse, a horse! Quick! My boots!" I kissed her hand--for I had not got
any farther than that--and began to ride towards Kingston. I did not care
for the motion of trotting, so I put my horse at a gallop, when all of a
sudden he stumbled, and in an instant I was lying on the ground in front
of the Duke of Kingston's house. Miss Chudleigh happened to be at the
window, and seeing me thrown to the ground uttered a shriek. I raised my
head and she recognized me, and hastened to send some of her people to
help me. As soon as I was on my feet I wanted to go and thank her, but I
could not stir, and a valet who knew something of surgery examined me,
and declared that I had put out my collar-bone and would require a week's
rest.

The young lady told me that if I liked to stay in her house the greatest
care should be taken of me. I thanked her warmly, but begged her to have
me taken home, as I should not