At length the treacherous snare was laid, Poor pug was caught--to town convey'd; There sold.

How envied was his doom, Made captive in a lady's room!--Gay's Fables.
I was sitting alone a morning or two after this adventure, when Bedos entering, announced une dame.

This dame was a fine tall thing, dressed out like a print in the Magasin des Modes.

She sate herself down, threw up her veil, and, after a momentary pause, asked me if I liked my apartment?
"Very much," said I, somewhat surprised at the nature of the interrogatory.
"Perhaps you would wish it altered in some way ?" rejoined the lady.
"Non--mille remercimens!" said I--"you are very good to be so interested in my accommodation." "Those curtains might be better arranged--that sofa replaced with a more elegant one," continued my new superintendant.
"Really," said I, "I am too, too much flattered.

Perhaps you would like to have my rooms altogether; if so, make at least no scruple of saying it." "Oh, no," replied the lady, "I have no objection to your staying here." "You are too kind," said I, with a low bow.
There was a pause of some moments--I took advantage of it.
"I think, Madame, I have the honour of speaking to--to--to--" "The mistress of the hotel," said the lady, quietly.