he has dealt honeſtly, and deſtined you a ſubſtantial prize in his lottery.’ Zoe had a ſelect collection of paintings, partly works of the greateſt maſters, and partly family pieces. Among the former were portraits of the moſt celebrated Grecian beauties of every age: among the latter was her own form, repreſented in various attitudes and employments, with all thoſe youthful charms which ſhe poſſeſſed while ſhe yet viſited the fairy waters. A gleam of vanity—for vanity will ſometimes adhere to the ſex beyond the grand climacteric—a recollection of her former ſplendor amid the preſent decay, ſuggeſted the idea, that probably her own portrait had enchanted Friedbert’s imagination; and ſhe felt the glow of ſecret ſatisfaction, when ſhe fancied herſelf ſaying to him, ‘Friend, I am myſelf the original of that painting.’ The idea of his aſtonishment, when the powerful ſpell ſhould thus break, gave her great glee by anticipation. Sir Slyboots, however, was too ſure of his
