“‘Mary rides beautifully,’ said my aunt, drily.’

“’Yes, but my dear aunt, it was not exactly of that I was going to speak, for in fact—­’

“Oh John,’ said she, interrupting—­’I know your delicacy too well to suspect; but, in fact, I have myself perceived what you allude to, and wished very much to have some conversation with you on the subject.’

“‘Thank God,’ said I to myself, ’at length, we understand each other—­and the ice is broken at last.’

“’Indeed, I think I have anticipated your wish in the matter; but as time presses, and I must look after all my packing, I shall say good by for a few weeks, and in the evening, Jepson, who stays here, will bring you, “what I mean,” over to your hotel; once more, then, good by.’

“‘Good by, my dearest, kindest friend,’ said I, taking a most tender adieu of the old lady.  ‘What an excellent creature she is,’ said I, half aloud, as I turned towards home—­’how considerate, how truly kind—­to spare me too all the pain of explanation.’  Now I begin to breathe once more.  ’If there be a flask of Johannisberg in the “Londres,” I’ll drink your health this day, and so shall Mary;’ so saying, I entered the hotel with a lighter heart, and a firmer step than ever it had been my fortune to do hitherto.

“‘We shall miss the old lady, I’m sure, Mary, she is so kind.’

“‘Oh! indeed she is; but then, John, she is such a prude.’

“Now I could not help recurring in my mind to some of the conversation in the Tuilleries garden, and did not feel exactly at ease.

“‘Such a prude, and so very old-fashioned in her notions.’

“‘Yes, Mary,’ said I, with more gravity than she was prepared for, ’she is a prude; but I am not certain that in foreign society, where less liberties are tolerated than in our country, if such a bearing be not wiser.’  What I was going to plunge into, heaven knows, for the waiter entered at the moment, and presenting me with a large and carefully sealed package, said, ’de la part de mi ladi Lilfore,’—­’but stay, here comes, if I am not mistaken, a better eulogy upon my dear aunt, than any I can pronounce.’

“How heavy it is, said I to myself, balancing the parcel in my hand.  ‘There is no answer,’ said I, aloud to the waiter, who stood as if expecting one.

“’The servant wishes to have some acknowledgment in writing, sir, that it has been delivered into your own hands.’

“Jepson entered,—­’well, George, your parcel is all right, and here is a Napoleon to drink my health.’

“Scarcely had the servants left the room, when Mary, whose curiosity was fully roused, rushed over, and tried to get the packet from me; after a short struggle, I yielded, and she flew to the end of the room, and tearing open the seals, several papers fell to the ground; before I could have time to snatch them up, she had read some lines written on the envelope, and turning towards me, threw her arms around my neck, and said, ‘yes Jack, she is, indeed, all you have said; look here,’ I turned and read—­with what feeling I leave to you to guess—­the following:—­