was exactly similar to that described in the anonymous letter, she returned to her residence, trembling with impatience and anxiety to encounter her husband.

The letter which had produced so much impression on Jules in the morning, was also anonymous; and, under the plea of pity for his position, as an injured and deceived husband, informed him that Madame St. Armand had, the night before, promised her old lover, M. de Melfort, that she would meet him at the bal masqué at the Opera, provided she could elude the vigilance of her jealous husband. The writer, therefore, cautioned M. St. Armand, that, if he wished to preserve his honour, he must not leave his wife's presence the whole of that day and night; but, if he preferred to detect her in her guilt, he had only to plead an engagement abroad, and proceed to the Opera House, where he would

have ocular demonstration of her perfidy. The dress Madame St. Armand was to wear was accurately described; but twelve o'clock was the hour named for her meeting with her lover.

The first impulse of the angry husband was to charge his wife with her intended assignation; but then came the recollection, that she might as unblushingly deny this imputation, as she had, the night before, denied that of having seen M. de Melfort, though he himself had beheld him withdrawing from her presence. No! he could no longer place reliance on her veracity; and therefore it were fruitless to accuse her, and urge her to endeavour to establish her innocence, when her asseverations could be productive of no diminution of his suspicions.

He next resolved to watch her narrowly, during the whole day and evening, and thus

prevent her from leaving the house. But soon it

occurred to him and jealous wrath instigated

the thought

that the better course would be to detect her in the moment of meeting with her lover; and spurn her at once from his home and heart, instead of continuing to endure an endless life of uncertainty, suspicion, and misery.

The last feeling became ultimately predominant; and, instigated by it, he left the house, and concealed himself in a cafe in the vicinity, whence he could watch his own house. No sooner, therefore, did his wife's carriage issue from the gates, than he jumped into a cabriolet, and followed in her path. He hoped that she was going to visit some of her relations; though her leaving home at all, after the agitation and illness of the previous night, their mutual coldness and petulance of the

morning, and their final separation in anger, seemed a confirmation of his worst fears.

He was not long in suspense; for her carriage shortly stopped at the door of a masquerade warehouse, where he saw her descend, her face concealed in her veil, and her person enveloped and disguised in a large mantle. So ungovernable was his rage at this apparent proof of her guilt, that he could scarcely resist his desire to enter the shop and overwhelm her with his reproaches. But, with a violent effort, he subdued the tempting impulse, and resolved

But, ma chère Caroline, I do not know whether I shall ever communicate to you

what

he did resolve. Here am I toiling like an author in an attic to please you; and I now recollect that you have never yet told me that you experience the slightest interest in my

labours.

This assurance, however, I must

have, ere you receive another line from

Your affectionate friend,

DELPHINE, MARQUISE DE VILLEROI.

P.S. To bribe you into applauding me, and into professing curiosity, even if you have not yet entertained it, I must warn you, that the best part of my tale is untold. You see I already experience an author's vanity in my

vocation.

THE MARQUISE DE VILLEROI TO

MISS MONTRESSOR.

MA CHÈRE CAROLINE,Of course, I shall believe your protestations: I find in myself such an invincible craving for your approba