Her

as coals kindling into a flame. She wore a necklace of great blue beads round her throat, and a red handkerchief tied about her head, beneath which strayed sundry dark greasy locks, that looked like the spoils of a carthorse's tail, or one of those we drove in our diligence, which is just the same thing. petticoats reached scarcely so low as her knees, and indeed she had a pair of legs worth showing; they were a curiosity, being as much in form and grace like those of an elephant as any biped's could be. The white sleeves of her shift, that formed the only covering of her shoulders, were tucked up, and showed an arm also mahogany in its hue, that was muscular enough to row a boat, handle a pitchfork, or any other masculine weapon. And as Nature seldom leaves any work incomplete, she had given to this remarkable damsel a voice quite in agreement with the sturdy character of her person, it was as deep as a boatswain's, and as gruff as a bear's; and as she was very active in her attendance at the supper-table, she shouted to the guests and to her fellow-servants

with a voice like the bell of Namur, truly astounding. Yet, as I take it, the outside of this maiden was more rude than the inward spirit; for a slight circumstance led me to believe she had a heart, and a kind one. I had been seated in the coupé so many hours, and so enveloped in cloaks and shawls, that when we arrived at La Marche, I felt, in going into the heated supper-room, perfumed as it was with the smoke of tobacco, as if I had only left a warm vapour-bath in order to come into a hot one. At length I felt rather faint, and, not choosing to alarm my companions, got up and left the room, to seek the fresh air in a sort of garden at the back of the inn, which I had observed on entering it.

Though the moon shone bright, the wall of the house cast a deep shadow on the ground beneath, so that I did not see a far-spreading and capacious cellar door, or rather steps descending to the door, towards which the path I was upon led in a direct line. How Maritornes spied me out I cannot tell you, but she

ran up to me, and by her activity and good nature saved me from a tumble that might have been a serious one; and when I made her comprehend, for she could not speak French, that I had left the room from feeling unwell, she showed an anxiety to be of service to me that was as kind and as gentle as heart could desire. Hence was I again reminded of Cervantes, who makes his Maritornes so charitable, that even at her own cost she bestows a cup of wine on Sancho Panza, after his tossing in the blanket. I had the curiosity to observe once more the countenance of my damsel, when we got back to the light; and, wild and masculine as it was, I was pleased by observing, that, now that it was under the influence of kindly feelings, it softened, and that it had something that was really feminine in its expression, in spite of all the hardness of its features.

Once more we resumed our seats in the diligence. My companions complained of a tedious night my husband from not being able to sleep; and my nephew said he could get no rest

for the incessant tattling of a couple of French women, who never ceased, nor even paused, all night in their discourse about fashions, and every possible subject connected with the most frivolous things; and at length ended by one thanking the other for the honour she had enjoyed in her amiable society during the journey. My nephew, be it observed, was in the body of the diligence; Mr. Bray and myself in the coupé.

For my own part, I soon fell asleep, and did not awake till we were near Arlon, where we breakfasted; and where, after washing my face, I felt so refreshed, I was quite willing to continue our journey, though it was not to terminate till the evening of the same day. As we approached Longwy, we found the country become very hilly. The houses, with their steep and far-projecting roofs and their peculiar red tiles (being deeply indented or curved in their forms), had altogether an Italian character. So very steep was the hill above Longwy Bas, that we were obliged to have seven horses, as stout

as those which draw the brewers' drays in London, to drag us up it. We did not reach Metz till late in the evening.

When we at length got housed in the Hotel de l'Europe, I was so faint with fatigue and hunger, I preferred taking supper with Mr. Bray to tea with my nephew; and, indeed, nothing but such a determined taste for every thing that bore but the form of tea, could have induced him to swallow such infusions of gooseberry and other leaves as he managed to get down under the name of that most pleasant drink. I soon found that a potage (that is, a kind of milk soup with vermicelli in it) was the best substitute I could hit upon when fatigued and hungry of an evening, as I really could not swallow the messes of tea over which my nephew and Mr. Bray used to regale themselves; till at last the latter gave it up, but the former never did. The preparation for it was formidable; there used to be such a difficulty, frequently such an impossibility, of getting the waiters to understand that it was absolutely necessary to