'“Enclosed in this was another letter, which was couched in these words:
'“Dearest Charlie,
'“Believe me, I would not beseech and pray you to come and spend the night with me, knowing as I do how near you are getting the prize you have so long been striving after, only that it is a matter or life and death with me. I have most fearful news to tell you, and it can't be delayed. I entreat you, dearest Charlie, to remember that I gave myself to you before you ever knew Julia, and by the maidenhead which you reaped then I beseech you to come to your most unhappy, unfortunate Clara.'
'“Well,” said Charlie, “if Clara had not had heaps of fellows after me, I should have thought it was jealousy on her part; if she had not, herself, helped me to fuck other girls than herself, I should have refused to listen to her. A fellow can't very easily tell a maiden who has at last consented to have him, that he can't conveniently do it then, and I was at my wits' end to know what to say. Julia was to be at the Swan that evening with her people, who did not, and were not to know that I was there but everything was cut and dried, the head chambermaid was my ally, and everything would have gone well; I should have had a night of delight in Julia's arms but for this unhappy letter. I therefore returned at once, whilst there was time, to London, to send myself a telegram, saying my mother was extremely ill and supposed to be dying, and then returned to the Swan, got my telegram, put it in a despairing note for Julia which I gave to the chambermaid to give her on her arrival, and then I drove to the Rectory. I have not yet heard how Julia took the news, but I am certain she must have spent a most unhappy night.
'“The Dobbs' were awfully glad to see me, and easily accepted my excuses for not calling on them. Clara looked beautiful and radiant as ever, and I could see no sign of the frightful woe which, according to her letter, she ought to have been in, as it was a matter of life and death with her. I declare it took all my powers of self-control to prevent my showing how desperately disinclined I was to stay in the house. The hour when Julia was to be at the hotel was dreadful to me when it came, and to think that she was within a quarter of a mile from me, and that all I had to do was to walk over, wait a little, and find myself, at 11 o'clock that night, between thighs which I burned to lie between, enjoying a sweet and lovely cunt which no man but I had as yet even felt with his hand, or fucked with his finger; her darling little maidenhead seemed to pull at the finger which had felt it, as much as to say 'I am here! come and pluck me,' and I heard the soft amorous voice again saying to me, 'We shall be at the Swan on the 13th of this month. Come then and you shall have me if you don't change your mind between this and then.' God! it was awful! Yet I bore it all! At last bedtime came. Clara pressed my hand and whispered 'in an hour', and that hour, I, of course, had to wait, turning about on my bed until it would be quite safe to go to her. Dear girls, I suffered agony of mind and body, thinking of Julia in her bed, and no chance of going to her. I almost doubted Clara. I thought it might only be a trick, and I vowed if it was I would leave her and go off to the Swan, if I had to risk dropping twenty feet from my window to the ground to get out of the house. But when the time had come for saying good-night, Clara had pressed my hand, and said in a low tone, 'Come to my room in an hour when all is quiet. I have something dreadful to tell you,' and the light and youthful expression which had been in her face all the evening up to this time departed, her eyes grew dark and mournful, and her mouth expressed a dangerous tendency to sobbing. I had returned her pressure with an 'I will,' and she went upstairs. Of course I knew that whatever it might be that Clara was about to tell me, I should be most of the night in her bed and that she would expect me to fuck her, so I undressed, and when all was quiet, I went to Clara's room. She was not in bed. She was undressed and in her night shift, and the moment I entered and had shut the door, she ran to me and clasped me in her arms, and pressing me to her bosom, burst into an agony of weeping, which alarmed me so much that my prick ceased to be stiff but hung at half cock.
'“What is the matter, Clara dear?' said I. 'Come, tell me!'
'“O! Charlie,' she said. 'It is too dreadful, and I know you will blame me. But indeed, I could not help it!'
'“But what is it, Clara?' She cried, she sobbed. She clasped me with desperate energy. Her lovely bubbies pressed my bosom and excited me. Up went my prick again, but the point of it seemed to me to strike her belly further in than it usually did on such occasions. I put down my hand to help it up, so as to get it between her belly and mine and give it a sweet squeeze between us when the cause of poor Clara's grief and despair instantly betrayed itself! That charming belly was, oh! much too rounded and full!
'“Oh! Clara!' I cried, 'Are you in pod?'
'“Yes, yes. Charlie. Oh, what am I to do? What am I to do?'
'“What brute put you in this state?' said I feeling her big belly, whilst, strange to say, my prick grew stiffer and stiffer, as though the idea of a baby being inside the girl made her cunt all the more desirable!
'“I am sure it was Allan MacAllan! I could not at first think who it was, I have had so many men, but I remembered that the last time Allan fucked me he had postponed using the sponge on the mantelpiece, and then we went to sleep. In the morning when we woke he had me again, but would neither get the sponge nor let me, and oh, Charlie, he is such a grand poke! I half believed him when he said that after such a lot of spend as he had given me overnight, he would not have much left. Alas, he had! His last spends (and he fucked me three times before we got up) were quite as plentiful as his first. Oh, fool that I was not to have got up at once after the first fuck, but it was so delicious to be in bed with him that I entirely forget prudence, and here is the result! I am certain it was Allan!'
'“But Clara!' said I. 'You may be mistaken You may not be really in the family way!'
'“Oh, I know I am Charlie! I am six months gone and I can feel the baby kicking inside me! Here, give me your hand. Do you feel that?' I did! Oh, there was no doubt at all! A fine, vigorous baby was at that moment plunging inside his unfortunate mother, and I could feel all his movements, which were dreadfully lively.
'“Poor Clara! I made her go to bed, and I got in with her. She let me see her belly, which was much bigger than I had ever seen before, and it looked as if its beautiful white skin was all stretched and polished from excessive fulness. Her breasts, too, looked changed. She made no objection to my fucking her. Indeed, she said she was only too glad to have me, as it might be the last time she would ever know rapture again. I almost forgot Julia! I don't think I ever enjoyed Clara so much before, and she said she had never felt so full of desire, or so sensitive to the pleasure my prick gave her as that night. During the intervals we formed all kinds of desperate plans but alas, always when we seemed at the point of finding one feasible, by which she might escape, an unthought-of obstacle always reared its poisonous head. All she gained from me was a night of really good fucking, but I left her as much in despair as ever. And now, girls, every day is precious!
'“There is no time to be lost. What is Clara to do?”
'We were nonplussed, Gladys and I.
'Never had such a dire misfortune occurred before. We could only chatter, we could not all at once hit on a plan. Gladys, who has more quiet good sense than I have, said she would invite a doctor friend of hers to come and sleep with her, and would consult him during the interval, and then our conversation fell upon the dangerous tadpoles which live in the balls of men. We had read of them, but we had never seen them, and were saying we would like to see what they were like, when Charlie's eye fell on a microscope on the drawing-room table. “Girls!” he cried, “Nothing can be easier than to show you the tadpoles. That is, if that microscope is powerful enough.” He jumped up, and took the glass cover off it, put in a slide, looked at it and exclaimed that it would do.
'“Now!” said he, carefully lifting the instrument, “Let us go into your foutoir, Lucia, and you shall make me spend, and I will show you the tadpoles.”
'Both Gladys and I were as excited as could be; we had had the microscope a long time, but the idea of utilising it in this way had never struck us before; we knew all about spermatozoa, theoretically, and we knew how to protect our wombs from the pestilent little objects, but we had never thought of trying to see with our eyes what they were like. I know I clapped my hands, and at the same time the idea of the whole thing made me feel more than randy. My cunt jumped and leaped, and Gladys called out at the redness of my cheeks. Charlie led the way — he knew my foutoir well. Oh! had he not fucked me there often enough? Frank Holt was to have me for the first time that night, there also, as a reward for painting my portrait. Oh, Susan, he must paint you too. You should see what a lovely picture he will make, and mind! He will give you your bush and cunt as large and as plain as life!
'When Charlie saw the picture of me hanging over the mantelpiece he laid down the microscope and exclaimed at the beauty of it. Frank has made me as a girl going for her morning bath in a clear stream. I am first looking round, as I throw off my robe, and I am in the act of coming down some steps which lead through tall
