Unlike some other reproductions of classic texts (1) We have not used OCR(Optical Character Recognition), as this leads to bad quality books with introduced typos. (2) In books where there are images such as portraits, maps, sketches etc We have endeavoured to keep the quality of these images, so they represent accurately the original artefact. Although occasionally there may be certain imperfections with these old texts, we feel they deserve to be made available for future generations to enjoy.

A beautiful woman is intended to create a heaven on earth and she has no business wasting herself making imaginary excursions into any future paradise. The present is her time for action; and again, Charlotte, I ask you to name the day upon which you inte

There are some women who will brew mystery from the decoction of even a very simple life. Matilda is one of them, remarked the major to himself as he filled his pipe and settled himself before his high-piled, violet-flamed logs. "It was waxing strong in h

Was there ever a woman who did not very greatly desire for herself, at long moments, the doublet and hose of a man, perhaps also his sword, as well as his attitude in the viewing of life? I think not. To a very small number of those ladies of great curiosity it has been granted that they climb to those ramparts of the life of a man; but it was needful that they be stout of limb and sturdy of heart to sustain themselves upon that eminence and not be dashed below upon the rocks of a strange land. I, Roberta, Marquise de Grez and Bye, have obtained glimpses into a far country and this is what I bring on returning, not as a spy, but, shall I say, laden with spices and forbidden fruit? And for me it has been a very fine dash into the wilds of a land of strangeness, and I do not know that I have yet found myself completely returned unto my estate of a woman

No indeed, my dear Louis, I am neither dead nor ruined, nor have I turned pirate, trappist, or rural guard, as you might imagine in order to explain my silence these four months since I last appeared at your illustrious studio. No, you witty giber, my fabulous heritage has not taken wings I am dwelling neither in China on the Blue River, nor in Red Oceania, nor in White Lapland. My yacht, built of teak, still lies in harbour, and is not swaying me over the vasty deep. It is no good your spinning out laborious and far-fetched hyperboles on the subject of my uncle's will: your ironical shafts all miss the mark. My uncle's will surpasses the most astonishing feat of its kind ever accomplished by notary's pen; and your poor imagination could not invent, or come anywhere near inventing, such remarkable adventures as those into which this registered document has led me. First of all, in order that your feeble intellect may be enabled to rise to the level of the subject, I must give you some description of "the Corsair," as you called him after you met him in Paris last winter; for it is only by comprehending the peculiarities of his life and character that you can ever hope to understand my adventures.

All love is a gas, and it takes either loneliness, strength of character, or religion to liquefy it into a condition to be ladled out of us, one to another. There is a certain dangerously volatile state of it; and occasionally people, especially of opposi

The primary need of a woman's nature is always supposed to be love, but very suddenly I discovered that in my case it was money, a lot of it and quick. That is, I thought I needed a lot and in a very great hurry; but if I had known what I know now, I migh