"It was no dream, my dear Miss Frankland, or at least, only partially so, as far as regarded your loved Henry—for that was the name you applied to me, and most deliciously did you embrace me under the idea, and die away in an excess of pleasure I quite envied; but you alarmed me by really fainting afterwards. I am so pleased to have turned a mere vision of the night into ecstatic reality, and I am not at all jealous of your former lover, because had you not had any, you would, probably, never have loved me. Oh, no! I should never be jealous of you my dear mistress. I would even like to see you in all the ecstasies of passion, in the arms of another, provided that I should share in your delights."
She listened in an astonishment, acknowledged that she had imagined herself in the arms of on
