The Sex Diary of a
Vol. 11 Chapter XI
Disjecta membra continued. • A fair haired Dane. • A semi-hairless quim. • About harlots' lusts and pleasures. • The Misses P***l**s*n. • Agatha and Helen. • Masturbating predilections. • A frig in a summer house. • A frig in a grotto. • At a road-side inn. • A tipsy wife. • Lewed per saltum. • Fucking with hat on. • A scare. • Twice in twenty minutes. • Reflexions.
[No doubt this also was set aside for a chapter on cunts.] — Place Copenhagen. A plump, blue eyed, flaxen haired, short damzel, very handsome and met at a beer garden, to whose lodgings I went. She spoke a little English mixed with German, said an English-man had kept her some months and that she been yachting with him. She was solid, square built and twenty, had big breasts, big thighs and very big bum, her thighs and bum were those of an English woman's of thirty, but her sweet youthful face told that she was about the age she said.
There was in her what I have found in many Northern whores and Scotch whores; much modesty about shewing her cunt, which I cured by swearing in anger and telling her I hated humbug. — "Oh, yah. — God damn. — Yes," — said she, laughing, and opening her thighs wide. She'd one of the fattest mottes and cunts I ever felt. It was more like a notch in some fat flesh than a crack with lips, altho a little swelling of lips there was. She had scarcely any hair on her mons and none lower down on the lips. That on her mons was crisp, curly, very short, very shiny, and slightly darker than the hair on her head, but was so thin that the white flesh showed through it. She'd not a sign of hair in her arm-pits.
Her cunt looked pretty from behind when kneeling. Not a sign of red was visible and her bum furrow was scarcely brown. When she widened her thighs apart, a little bit of red just shewed. The nymphae were little, and ran the whole length of the cunt and round it at the bumhole end. — I noticed all closely altho I only saw her twice, for her cunt was unusual. The mouth of the avenue was quite large, inside it was easy to my fingers, but so fat, pulpy and elastic, that it fitted my prick exquisitely. I fucked her twice, the first time with belly to belly, and then from behind her. There was something about her white buttocks which excited me to slap them when fucking behind her. Some women's excite me to do that, the greatest number don't, I only rub their buttocks.
This uncommon cunt begat various letches, for each cunt has a different effect on me. I grasped her fat pad or mons with the palm of my hand, so that my fingers covered half her notch, and my middle fingers got well down and a little up her vagina. I did this standing behind her, both of us naked, my belly and breasts pressing her bum and back, my left hand round her waist, my right passed round to her cunt, and so I frigged her looking at ourselves in a little looking glass on her table, which only showed about half of us — from thighs up to waist — I did this to her the second day, just after we'd had our midday meal, frigged her till she said she was ready to spend, and then we adjourned to the bed.
Before that I'd amused myself another way. My tip was unusually red when stiff that day, and I laid it on her motte, then on her buttocks, then between her bubbies, pleased with the contrast of its crimson and her dazzlingly white flesh. She said "Englishman's has funny some tastes." — Yet she was pleased with the fun.
Next day I travelled on to where light haired, blue eyed, and sturdy limbed women are the race, and not a few light haired cunts my prick entered. [I was young and travelling alone then.]
Some say that harlots are sick of their business, and hate the erotic whims and fancies to which they minis-ter. Such is not my experience. I believe that most of them like baudy tricks, and that directly their lust is roused, — easily done by finger, tongue, or talk — they rejoice in them. Nature is the same in them as in other women who want fucking daily. If harlots are young and well fed, they want fucking twice a day, lust being always ready latent in them. Lust delights in all that cock and cunt can do, for those are agents of infinite voluptuous delight from the cradle to the grave, in both men and women.
Very intimate and friendly I've been with a few har-lots, who knew me to have no prejudices, knew my erotic philosophy, and on this subject have in times of expansion and companionship talked freely with me. One told me that every now and then when she felt lewed, that the sight of a man who took her fancy suddenly had such an effect on her, that she felt as if she could lay down in the street to let him fuck her. One night at a French woman's house — where I have furtively seen many fuck her. — I saw a splendid man tail her. When done he said he'd lost his purse. After a moments thought, "Never mind, let us kiss again," said she, and they did. She was frantic in her sexual spasm, kept him, talked to him, sucked his prick until erect, and again they fucked. I saw it all, grew weary of looking. — Afterwards I wondered at her submitting to his bilking. — "Ah yes, but what a beau garcon, what skin, what hair, what a lovely prick — didn't you admire it?" Then she went on, "I thought from his manner he'd but little money, he bragged so, mais! What a lovely kiss, I longed for him directly he was naked."
It's an illustration, and I've had many such. No, har-lots like their occupation, like all its erotic accompanyments, spending often becomes a necessity to them, as shitting daily is with us all. Spending twice a day be-comes needful for a harlot, many spend more, and with some it ends in madness. How often have I heard, — "I always spend if I'm fucked by a man I like." — Again. — "Who can help spending if a man gamahuches you long ? It's impossible to prevent it, you think you won't and you try, but suddenly comes pleasure and you let him go on, and if a man's a long time fucking it's the same," the very words of a "Dame galante," otherwise whore, harlot, strumpet, Paphian, Cyprian, or whatever else you may call her, classical, vulgar, or poetical. The following occurred when I was twenty-three. I nearly destroyed the narrative thinking it ought not to have been written, but all the actors are gone long ago, and it now turns up among the papers set aside. The original was twice as long, the notes of two years.
My aunt had a lawn party as she called it, most of the guests kept on the lawn near the house, where there was tea, wine, and shade. Few walked about much for it was very hot. Among them were two girls whom I will call P**l**s*n, daughters of a widower recently settled in the neighbourhood, fairly well off but not mixing much with the local gentry [Country society was exclusive then.] They were well known, dark eyed and handsome. People said they were what my aunt called "adventurous" [or what would be termed now "fast"]. They were certainly free, flirty, and vulgarish in manner. Their father had done my aunt some service hence the girls being among her visitors, but she didn't like them, and said she was sure that they'd served in a shop. They were two or three and twenty years old, one named Agatha, the other Helen.
I'd known them about two years, Fred only about a year. We had driven them out and gradually had talked somewhat freely, several times I'd kissed Agatha and Fred had kissed the other. From a concert at the Town Hall we walked home with them one night their father not being with them. As we separated I kissed Agatha, and in doing so being randy, caught her round her bum with one hand and handled it gently all over, squeezing my belly against hers for a second just as I've done to servants. All she said was, "Don't now." It was dark and within sight of her father's door. Walking home, Fred said he thought that both were game. My aunt said next morning they were angling for us "forward minxes" and warned us. "I'd give fifty pounds to fuck Helen," said Fred one day. "And she's randy enough, look at her eyes." — Agatha looked equally voluptuously at times to me, and there was something about her which always made my cock stand when I saw her.
We quite agreed that both wanted fucking but had no idea of attempting it. Our meetings were not frequent, but sufficiently numerous to have got free and easy with them, and Fred's talk and mine had gradually become chaffingly but suggestively amorous when we met, and circumstances favoured it.
There was a cold collation at my aunt's, an apology for a dinner for those who liked to stop, and lots of champagne. — Some guests didn't stop, some, including the two girls, did. — Agatha took champagne freely, so did I, we strolled out with others on to the lawn and as it got cooler, we went further off and gradually to the laurel walk where was the big privy in which I'd fucked Pender. I was so lewed that my tool was on half cock. — I fancy she thought it was a summer house, — for there were two windows in it — and she'd not been in the walk before, I said, "Ah! I've had a love-making there." — "Where?" she asked. — "There," I replied laughing. — "Oh! Do tell us about it." — "I daren't. — "Oh, do." — "We made each other happy." — She looked in my eyes. — "Now, do tell me." — "Give me a kiss then." She refused but I took it, and was so lewed, so reckless, that whilst kissing I held her, took hold of her left hand with my right, and pressed it hard up against my prick which was standing up in my trowsers like a rolling pin. — "Oh, don't — some one will see us." — She submitted to kiss after kiss and didn't with-draw her hand. "I'm in love with you I think," said I, when I ceased holding her hand. Her eyes looked soft, her manner was confused, and I thought that she knew what her hand had been pressed against, and that I knew that she knew what it was.
We walked on talking about love, I getting mad for fucking, without of course having the least idea of her helping me. I'd once before spoken about her garters, — her sister then was present. — "Where do you gar-ter?" said I. — "How rude you are, I shan't tell you." — "I'll find out." — "Now don't do that — there," said she, pointing above her knee. It was coquetteishly done. — "What's it made of?" — "Silk, how rude you are." — "It isn't." — "It is." — "Let me see." — I stooped and got my hand on to her knee." — "Oh! Don't now, now I'll leave you," she said, but in quite a low tone, not a cry escaped her and she looked anxiously round — we were then in a shrubbery. — "Let's sit down." She unhesitatingly entered with me a summer house which was in the remotest part of the grounds, no one was about, and we sat down.
There she began to lecture me about my rudeness, said she'd never expected it, nor would she walk with me again. She was excited, her face red. — "If you won't again I'll feel your garters now." — She laughed, again I stooped, in a minute, spite of some weak struggles, my hand was clasped between her thighs — she'd no drawers on. — She cried hysterically, "Oho — oho — it's shameful," and whimpered. I took my hand away, then saw that she'd shed no tears and that she looked caressingly at me. She didn't attempt to go away from me.
Frightened for a minute at my own temerity and success, the touch of her flesh so close to the hairy lipped entrance of her treasure, left me in a state of frantic, reckless randiness. I'd not had a woman for long, my prick had been stiffening on and off all day. I had drunk much champagne, so had she, and now, as whimpering she sat quite still, talking about what I'd done, instinct I suppose told me she was randy and ready, I forgot she was a lady, thought of nothing but cunt, and attempted again. She resisted but laughed in an anxious tone. "Oh, suppose you're seen now, don't," and so on. Then without any idea of fucking her, but simply from desire to show her my sex, I pulled out my stiff pego. — "Look," said I. — "Oh," said she, "what an insult." But she laughed as I attempted again to feel her garters, up she got, I caught her by the waist, kissed her, and put her hand round my prick — she'd no gloves on — and she held it murmuring. — "Don't now — let me go, — I'll tell your aunt — oh don't — someone will be coming — oh don't" — as I kept kissing. But still she kept hold of my prick, and her eyes glanced down on it and then at me. Did she quite know what she was doing?
Altho I wrote this part of the narrative one or two days afterwards, I couldn't describe all that then passed through my mind. Desire to feel her, fuck her, — fear of consequences, of her resisting, of telling my aunt or her father — wonder if she were virgin, whether she wanted fucking, and at her boldness — was it innocence, was I wrong in seducing her? — All made a mental chaos, during which I sat down, pulled her on to my knee, kissed her, pressed her hand again round my naked pego, and tried uselessly to feel her cunt. How it all came about I can scarcely tell, but it did just as narrated. She must have equally been under the influence of lust, and pleased with what I was doing, for there she sat on my knee holding my pego which began to throb, and tho it was almost imperceptibly done, her hand was moving gently up and down my prick, tho perhaps she did not know it. My sperm was boiling in my balls, the desire to spend became maddening, I clasped her hand in mine tightening hers round my prick and frigged, and in a minute almost, out shot a shower of sperm. I took away my hand from hers which still kept round my prick, and she was looking down at it when I recovered from my pleasure, as the last drop of sperm was issuing.
"You've frigged me, Agatha." — "What?" said she as if astonished at the word and letting go my tool. — "Let me feel your cunt," "Oh, for God sake don't — oh, let us go — what will they think of us at the house?" — "Let me." She didn't say no, but got away from me. "I'll never speak to you again, and for God sake don't tell your cousin Fred. Will you now? — Promise me faithfully you won't. — Oh, what have you made me do? — I'll drown myself if you don't promise. Oh, you bad man." — I promised. "Let me feel your garters." — "I won't." — We went to the house without speaking and there was Fred talking to the sister. The two girls left soon after. How Agatha's eyes looked as we shook hands. It was dusk.
When I reflected on all the occurrences next day, I felt convinced that the girl had lewedly egged me on. The same evening I was as hot as if I'd spent, and thoughts of what I had done and what I'd not done exited me so, that I frigged myself, fancying that her ittle hand was doing it, and thinking of that slight ;ouch of her thigh. — Then I wondered where my sperm lad fallen, whether on the floor or on her dress. I lever knew.
Next morning my aunt was angry with us for showing such attention to the two girls. "Nobodies — even if their father has money — and neglecting other nice ;iris here." Fred and I talked about it afterwards. — 'Where did you get to with Agatha?" asked he in a curious way. "Nowhere, we walked about."
I was wild to see the girl after that, but opportunities were few. I couldn't go often to the village, and they were not often to be met at people's houses. — A fort-night elapsed and then we met her with her sister in the street, we shook hands, my cousin walked ahead with Helen, Agatha walked with me and said, "You haven't told?" I swore I hadn't and never would, but wished she'd do it again. — "You're shocking, and must be wicked to speak of such a thing, to wish such a thing," and I didn't any more that day.
A month afterwards I'd been to London and left Fred there, when Agatha called on my aunt with some message from her father. Aunt was very gracious, and sent my only female cousin then at home, to show her the Farm.
Aunt was going out with my cousins, and thinking the ladies too long gone, sent me to them. They had left the farm and I found them away near a grotto —(The history of the doings in this grotto years afterwards I've told.) "Oh, I'd forgot, Mamma will be so angry, will you stop with Miss P***l**s*n while I dress, and come on to the house?" Off she went, my prick gave a throb, and in a minute I'd kissed Agatha and got her into the grotto. — "Now I'll feel your garter." — She was collected and repulsed my hand, but I was more energetic and hesitated less. She had frigged me and seen my sperm, had never cried out, and her whole behaviour been such, that without fear I thought I might even try to fuck her. — So on I went trying to get my hand up her clothes, she successfully defeating me, begging, praying, saying she'd call my cousin but never doing so, when "Hark! Hark!" she said, quite sotto voce.
I stopped, heard in the distance my cousin's voice — calling me as I heard afterwards. — The voice ceased, Agatha was in a fright. — "Oh if she's seen you — if she's heard," and so on. We were both startled and listened, and then in that quiet place I heard in the distance the wheels of a carriage and knew their sound. "Aunt's gone out driving," said I, and immediately began the attack again.
She was now in fear and didn't mean me to feel her cunt, which was now my intention. Indeed all seemed possible, the excitement had raised my lust high, we were alone and had nothing to fear but the chance of a gardener coming. She'd seen my prick once, and again I produced it balls and all now. "Look Agatha, feel it again." — I desisted from my attempts, thinking the sight of the machine would affect her and make her complaisant. — "Feel it." — "I shan't" and she laughed as I thought strangely. — "Do this," said I, frigging it. — "I shan't, your behaviour is shameful." — Then she went off into a hysterical peal of laughter.
A few more words and I closed on her, she retreated against the wall and our lascivious struggles recommenced. "I will." — "You shan't." I pulled her petticoats up to her knees, she pushed them down, spoke, she cried, but always in a low tone showing fear of surprise, which gave me courage, till my hand was on her thighs near to her cunt, when violently she dislodged it and cried loudly, — "Oh don't, you never shall — leave off — you will if you're a gentleman — oh — now — it's shameful, you take a mean advantage when there's no one to protect me." — My fingers just felt the hair of her motte, as she pushed me off and burst into tears. "Remem — ber — I'm — ah — a lady — aha," she sobbed, which touched me and I ceased.
But my prick was still out — I recollected what she'd already done and that she'd made no noise. I was wild with sexual passion, and after a second or two said, — "Feel it then." — "Will you then leave off?" — "Yes." — she took hold of it as I put it into her soft white hand, and as I felt its smoothness, and saw the ruby tip protrucing from her little fist and she looking down at the implement of female pleasure, I nearly spent. But intention again came of feeling her cunt, to get my fin-gers between the soft warm lips whilst she handled my pego. Then I had conflicting sensations. — Some one might come — was she virgin? She was a lady and my action was mean, and spite of my lust I hesitated and stood motionless, she holding my prick and looking in my face. — "Do what you did that afternoon." — "I don't know what I did." — "Do this," and I passed her hand up and down my prick. She began slowly, how my prick reciprocated, I took her round the waist and kissed her cheek, whilst gently but clumsily she frigged, and thinking of her cunt, longing to fuck her, I murmured my desires for her in the baudiest language. "Oho! —You're dreadful," said she. Then out spurted my sperm, I clutched her hand and held it in mine whilst withdrawing my prick through hers, so that the last of my spendings fell on her fingers. — It gave me the utmost lascivious delight to know it had wetted them, as I sighed. "That ought to be — aha — in your — cunt."
She let go my prick, looked at me with wildly voluptuous eyes, then at her hand, then looked round to see if any one was near. — I'm sure from her look and manner that she was dying to be fucked, and had I been in condition perhaps might have attempted it, but my prick was shrinking. — She looked at it again, I wiped her fingers with my handkerchief, she let me do it not seeming to know what she was about, till, — "Oh — I'm so miserable — for God sake — never tell any one. — Will you now? — you brought me here for this — didn't you?" — I swore I'd never tell, and rap-idly and without another word we walked to the Hall. — "Where's my aunt?" — "Gone out in the carriage Sir, a few minutes ago." — "Oh!" said Agatha, "I'm so sorry, tell her will you?" I shook hands with that hand which had had my sperm in it, and off she went. I told Aunt at dinner that we'd arrived just as she got out of sight. — "It's a pity, I'd have driven her home," was all she replied.
Agatha never again gave me a chance of being alone even to speak with her, and I was mostly in London. — One night Fred and I, smoking in my chambers, our conversation fell on these girls, and little by little we disclosed to each other. He'd kissed them both and had tried to feel Helen unsuccessfully. — "Yet she wants fucking so." — Agatha he'd also tried, and then I told him she'd frigged me. — "And so she did me at * * * * *," said he, laughing and slapping his thigh. — Agatha had f rigged us both — I wonder how many other men she'd frigged.
When after my frigging we met the girls Agatha always looked enquiringly and seemed uncomfortable. Two or three years afterwards the family left the neighbourhood. I was then a poor man and rarely went to my aunt's, and Fred was abroad. [The episode occurred when I was about twenty-five, and the narrative was at one time nearly burnt.]
I had an acquaintance named * * * ** * *, who had a lovely creature for wife, blue eyed, very light chestnut hair, plump as a partridge and about twenty-six or -seven years old. She had given way to drinking, some said owing to domestic annoyance, but that has nothing to do with the episode.
In summer with six or eight men who had driven down to * * * * about country business I was to dine, and joined them later at a small, simple, yet well known country inn about fourteen miles off. When I got there all were in the garden reading, smoking, and awaiting dinner. — One of them who also knew the couple said to me, laughing, "There's Mrs. * * * * * * * here tight as peep. She's been out driving with her brother and his wife, they've gone to **** and are coming back to dine." There the conversation ended and I thought no more about the matter. Our party had washed after their long drive, I had not, went in and up stairs expecting as usual to find a chambermaid to show me a bedroom to wash in. [It was a small inn and before the days of lavatories.] Not seeing the chambermaid, and after calling out and no one answering, I opened a bedroom door, and there Mrs. * * * * * * * to my astonishment stood, having just risen from a night commode in which she had piddled, with her petticoats in front held up in a bunch showing both legs to above her garters, whilst in her rear her clothes were dragging having dropped and caught in the mahogany commode. No way abashed, — "Look here, oh, pull it away — do — how d'ye do — Oh, oh," said she, tugging and still keeping her clothes up in front, swaying a little and chuckling in a tipsy way.
Her face was flushed, and I saw at once that she was tight and had been lying on the bed. A rush of lust came, my prick rose stiff at the sight of the beautiful pair of legs, and instinct told me I could have her — I should have revolted at any intention had I reflected, but a standing prick has no conscience. I thought of nothing but how to fuck her, those lovely legs, those laced petticoats upset me, and in less time than it takes to write two lines of this narrative, I'd closed the door and was assisting to free her clothes.
"Have you seen Jack?" (her brother) stammered she, chuckling. — "Oh — don't do that — let me — lie down," she mumbled, for as I disengaged her clothes with one hand, I passed my other up between a pair of fat soft thighs to her cunt, and well between its lips. — I was as wet as a mop. — "Oh don't you — oh now. — Ho — ho Jack's coming — Oh don't." —"Let us do it." — "He — he — he," — she chuckled. — "No — oho." - 'Let me fuck you." — "Oh don't — now. — He he — he — leave it alone," and she sat down on the bed edge for a minute, letting me finger her quim without hindrance, and then fell back. As she fell I threw up her clothes to her navel. She chuckled still as if it was a good joke. — "I'll fuck you." — "Oh no, you mustn't," and she raised herself partly up. My stiff prick was then out. "Ho — ho — ho," said she, laying hold of it, and fell back again chuckling tipsily. Before the words were out of her mouth my prick was buried up to its balls in her cunt — a lovely looking notch — and she was lying with eyes closed enjoying the plugging. I lifted her thighs then, and fucked with the joy of a full ballocks, immediately sympathetic, reciprocal movements of her cunt and buttocks began. — She was hot there. — "Ah! Fuck," I sighed. "Yhes, fuck — I'm acom' — ahar," she murmured, opening her eyes wide and staring at me for an instant, then closing them she jerked well up her bum and spent, as I filled her cunt with my sperm. I was full that day and the fuck was a short one.
I'd scarcely spent when came a knock at the door. — it wasn't locked. — My God, we are caught, thought I, then withdrew my prick giving her a violent shake of her thighs to rouse her, just as a louder second knock came and a female voice, "Shall I bring you a cup of tea Mam?" — The fuck and the fun had a little sobered her, she looked at me as I stood by the door gesticulating — my prick still out. — "Wharte," — she said in a drunken mumble. — "Shall I bring you some tea?" — I shook my head. — "Noo," she mumbled — I heard foot steps retreating, bolted the door, and wiped my face, down which perspiration was trickling. She began feeling her head as if to arrange her hair. — "Oh, what have we done? Jack will be back." — She stared at me, and I at her, for in truth I was also bewildered, all had taken place in six or seven minutes, and it seemed a dream — and then the risk! — Without another word I helped her up, and she sat with legs uncovered to her garters on the bed side, smiling tipsily.
As I got composed, a violent desire for her again came on and I sat by her. "Oh! What have you made me do?" "I've fucked you, let me again." — "Oh, it's dreadful" she mumbled, yet she chuckled, and as I put her hand on my prick, she laughed a tipsy laugh again and greedily felt it. "Oh don't — no" — as my fingers felt her gluey quim and frigged it. She must have had a thirsty cunt, for she soon gripped my prick, and felt my titillation. — "Let's fuck dear?" — "Oh, no. Jack's coming back. — Oh, no — no." — but as she said "No," she turned her lips lovingly to mine, as if she couldn't help it. — She was under the dominion of lust, and yielding, scarcely knowing what she did, grasping my prick still which stiffened proudly, as I pushed her gently back. — "No — no — no," — she chuckled as she fell into the same position. I threw up her clothes, she at once opened her thighs wide to receive me, spunk was all over them and ran from her cunt as my prick went up it and I had one of the most delicious fucks, tho this also was soon over, fear of being caught and of losing my early stiffness, of missing the chance of spending in that divine quim made me hurry, I rammed quickly and hard as a steam engine, encouraging her and my-self by baudy words till I sunk in Elysium on her belly, whilst the squeeze and oscillation of her cunt and bum came on at the same moment. Anxiety to get away for both out sakes, made me withdraw my prick still yielding up its balmy liquid. I made her then lay along the bed, and she instantly went off to sleep. I opened the door and got off un-observed. I'd never taken off my hat even when fucking, and must have done her twice in a quarter of an hour. When I rejoined my friends, "How hot you are," said one. I gave some mendacious reason for it.
I fucked her at half past four and an hour after, Jack, whom I knew, came, and told me his sister had been upset by the strong sun. In the evening our party drove home. Jack was departing just as we were, and unfortunately out came Mrs. * * * * * *, sober. I accosted her of course as if I'd not seen her before, and never felt in greater difficulty, for I thought of her lovely chestnut fringed cunt as I spoke. She was confused, how she looked at me. I helped her and sister in law into the carriage, and my cock stood as I saw her pretty feet and fancied I smelt her. When our party got to the west end, I alighted and followed flashy whores till I got a nice one. All the evening my cock had stood at intervals thro recollection, and I thought of nothing else as I fucked the harlot in the same attitude as I em-braced Mrs. * * * * in, I shut my eyes, used the same baudy ejaculations, and fancied successfully that it was Mrs. * * * * * whom I was fucking.
[I find from subsequent memoranda, that this amour of twenty minutes filled my brain long afterwards, and that at times I shut my eyes whilst fucking and thought of Mrs. * * * *. Idealities have always helped me in sexual enjoyments. When poor and I had women for five shillings, I used to close my eyes and fancy I was enjoying females of higher class.] (I saw Mrs. * * * * for the first time about six months afterwards. She always avoided me. Nevertheless I once alluded to it, tho I knew I ought not. "Do you re-member being at * * * *," I began, naming the place. "You ought never to refer to it," said she, getting up and leaving me on some pretext. I noticed that when afterwards we met in society she was always in a furtive way looking at me. — She died two or three years after of typhoid fever.]