“Are you in this concern?” he asked, in some surprise.

“Yes.”

“And making money fast?”

“We are doing very well.”

“Gordon, I don’t understand this altogether.  I tried to recover myself, but soon got discouraged, and have ever since plodded along in a poor way I live, it is true; but you are doing much better than that.  What is your secret?”

“It lies in three words,” replied Gordon.

“Name them.”

“Time, Faith, Energy!”

The man looked startled for a moment, and then walked away wiser than when he asked the question.  Whether he will profit by the answer we cannot tell.  Others may, if they will.

FLUSHED WITH WINE.

“Wasn’t that Ernestine Lee that we passed this moment?” asked Harvey Lane, a young M.D., of his friend James Everett, in a tone of surprise.

“Yes, I believe it was—­“Everett returned, rather coldly.

“You believe it was!  Surely, James, nothing has occurred to destroy the intimacy that has for some time existed between you.”

“You saw that we did not speak.”

“I did.”

“And, probably, shall never be on terms of friendship again.”

“What you say pains me very much, James.  Of course there is a reason for so great a change.  May I ask what it is?”

“It is, no doubt, a good deal my own fault.  But still, I cannot help thinking that she has taken offence too suddenly, where no offence was intended.  You know that I have been long paying attentions to her?”

“Yes.”

“If I remember rightly, I told you last week, that my intentions towards her were of a serious character.  In a word, that I had fully made up my mind to ask her hand in marriage.”

“O, yes,—­I remember it very well.  And that is the reason why I felt so much surprised at seeing you pass each other, without speaking.”

“Well, a few evenings ago, I called, as usual, intending, if a good opportunity offered, to make known my true feelings towards her.  Unfortunately, I had dined out that day with some young friends.  We sat late at table, and when I left, I was a little flushed with wine.  It was a very little, for you know that I can drink pretty freely without its being seen.  But, somehow, or other, I was more elated than is usual with me on such occasions, and when I called on Ernestine, felt as free and easy as if everything was settled, and we were to be married in a week.  For a time, we chatted together very pleasantly; then I asked her to play and sing for me.  She went to the piano, at my request, and played and sung two or three very sweet airs.  I don’t know which it was that elated my feelings so much—­the wine, or the delightful music.  Certain it is, that at the conclusion of a piece, I was in such rapture, that I threw my arms around her neck, drew back her head, and kissed her with emphatic earnestness.”