ess expense,' murmured the lady, her
bosom heaving with passionate emotions.

'But first remove that mask,' said the gentleman, enraptured at the
success of the first intrigue of his life.

'I have no objection to uncover my countenance, provided you bestow upon
me a similar favor,' replied Josephine.

'I am most anxious to preserve my _incognito_,' said the gentleman, in a
tone of hesitation. 'My standing and peculiar occupation in life are
entirely incompatible with such a festival as this, and my reputation
would be dangerously compromised, if not utterly ruined. Nay, then,
since you insist upon it, fair creature, I will unmask, trusting to your
honor as a lady to keep my secret.'

He uncovered his face, and Josephine was thunderstruck when she
recognized in the amorous stranger, no less a personage than Dr.
Sinclair, the pious and eloquent rector of St. Paul's.

Yes--that learned and talented divine, who had so often denounced the
sins and follies of the fashionable world, and declaimed particularly
against the demoralizing influences of masquerade balls--that young and
handsome preacher, whose exalted reputation for sanctity and holiness
had induced the amorous Josephine and her licentious mother to suppose
him inaccessible to their lustful glances, and far removed from the
power of temptation--that model of purity and virtue was now present at
this scene of profligate dissipation, gazing into the wanton eyes of a
beautiful siren, his face flushed with excitement, and his heart
palpitating with eager desire!

For a few moments Josephine sat overcome by astonishment, and could not
utter a single syllable.

'You seem surprised, dear lady,' said Dr. Sinclair--'may I ask if you
have ever seen me before?'

'You can read in my countenance an answer to your question,' replied
Josephine, taking off her mask.

'Heavens, Miss Franklin!' exclaimed the divine. It was now his turn to
be astonished.

'We meet under extraordinary circumstances,' said Dr. Sinclair after a
short and somewhat embarrassing pause. 'Had I known that you are one who
every Sabbath sits under my ministration, no earthly consideration would
have induced me to disclose myself--not even the certainty of enjoying
your favors. However, you know me now, and 'tis impossible to recall the
past; therefore, beautiful Miss Franklin, do not withhold from the
preacher that kindness which you would have granted to the private
gentleman.--Let us religiously