he word,
_Diadeste_. A game lasted, as you may well suppose, during a week, and
the point was to catch some one receiving some trifle or other without
pronouncing the sacramental word."

"Even a kiss?"

"Oh, I have won the _Diadeste_ twenty times in that way," she laughingly
replied.

"It was, I believe, from the playing of this game, whose origin is
Arabian or Chinese, that my apologue takes its point. But if I tell
you," she went on, putting her finger to her nose, with a charming air
of coquetry, "let me contribute it as a finale to your work."

"This would indeed enrich me. You have done me so many favors already,
that I cannot repay--"

She smiled slyly, and replied as follows:

A philosopher had compiled a full account of all the tricks that women
could possibly play, and in order to verify it, he always carried it
about with him. One day he found himself in the course of his travels
near an encampment of Arabs. A young woman, who had seated herself under
the shade of a palm tree, rose on his approach. She kindly asked him to
rest himself in her tent, and he could not refuse. Her husband was then
absent. Scarcely had the traveler seated himself on a soft rug, when the
graceful hostess offered him fresh dates, and a cup of milk; he could
not help observing the rare beauty of her hands as she did so. But, in
order to distract his mind from the sensations roused in him by the fair
young Arabian girl, whose charms were most formidable, the sage took his
book, and began to read.

The seductive creature piqued by this slight said to him in a melodious
voice:

"That book must be very interesting since it seems to be the sole object
worthy of your attention. Would it be taking a liberty to ask what
science it treats of?"

The philosopher kept his eyes lowered as he replied:

"The subject of this book is beyond the comprehension of ladies."

This rebuff excited more than ever the curiosity of the young Arabian
woman. She put out the prettiest little foot that had ever left its
fleeting imprint on the shifting sands of the desert. The philosopher
was perturbed, and his eyes were too powerfully tempted to resist
wandering from these feet, which betokened so much, up to the bosom,
which was still more ravishingly fair; and soon the flame of his
admiring glance was mingled with the fire that sparkled in the pupils
of the young Asiatic. She asked again the name of the book in tones so
sweet that the philosoph