Those gentlemen who desired had an apartment to themselves, where wine and cigars circulated freely.  Some, in a short time, became excited; whilst others, upon whom the same cause had a different effect, became stupid.  One poor fellow, whose bloated countenance told a sad tale, lay almost senseless; another sat dreamingly over his half-filled glass, whilst another excited the risibilities of not a few by his ineffectual attempts to light his cigar.

Our hero, like his companions, was a little overcome by too frequent potations from the bottle.  It was a sad sight to a reflective mind.  The majority were young men, whose eyes had been blinded to the danger they were in, by adhering to a foolish and injurious custom.

As hour passed hour, they became more excited, until a high state of enthusiasm existed.

All the ladies had retired, except one, and she strove hard to conceal her rising sorrow by forced smiles; yet she could not restrain her feelings,—­her heart seemed bursting with grief.  In vain did officious servants seek to know the cause.  To the inquiries of the lady of the house she made no reply.  She dare not reveal the secret which pierced her very soul; but, burying her face in her hands, seemed resolved upon not being comforted.  Finally, yielding to the persuasive influence of Mrs. Venet, she expressed her fears that Edward had tarried too long at the bowl.

Mrs. Venet tried to comfort her by saying that, if what she so much feared was true, yet it was nothing uncommon; and mentioned several men, and not a few ladies, who had been carried away in a senseless condition.

These words did not comfort her; on the contrary, they increased her fears, and led her to believe that there was more danger at such parties than there was generally thought to be; and the fact that Edward had often attended such parties increased her sorrow, for she knew not but that he had been among that number of whom Mrs. Venet spoke.

Imagination brought to her view troubles and trials as her future lot; and last, not least, the thought of Edward’s temperament, and of how easily he might be led astray, rested heavily upon her heart.  Mrs. Venet at length left her, and repaired to the gentleman’s apartment, in order to learn the cause of his delay.

“Who in the devil’s there, with that thundering racket?” inquired a loud voice.

“It is Mrs. Venet,” replied the lady.

“O, it is, is it?  Well, madam, Dayton the confectioner, and a dozen jovial souls, are having a rare time here.  Put that down in your memorandum-book, and leave us to our meditations.”

“Yes, and these to profit and loss,” said another, and the breaking of glasses was heard.

“If Mr. Dayton is within, tell him his lady is waiting for him,” said Mrs. Venet.

“Ed, your wife’s waiting,"’ said one of the party.

“Then, friends, I-I-I must go,” said the inebriated man, who, though badly intoxicated, had not wholly forgotten her.