animated countenance, and, in her sweetest tones, begged him to take a
glass of wine with her. I thought of Satan, disguised as an angel of
light, and trembled for the result, as I stood anxiously listening for
his answer. It came in the negative, but the hesitating, half-apologetic
tone was very different from the firm and decided one, in which he had
resisted all other solicitations. But she was not yet satisfied. Womanly
vanity must triumph, no matter how dearly the victory may be purchased.

"'You surely will not be so ungallant as to refuse a lady so small a
favor,'--and her eyes added, as plainly as words,--'but much less can
you refuse me.'

"'You see how society is degenerating, Mr. Bernard,' she said, turning
to me, 'there was a time when a lady's request was deemed sacred, now we
poor women have little or no influence over your sex.'

"'I devoutly wish you had less, Madam,' was my uncourteous reply; but
she scarcely heard me, for Henry, taking the proffered glass, and in a
low tone, murmuring, 'For your sake alone,' quaffed its contents. A
flush of gratified vanity passed over the lady's countenance, for she
had laid a challenge with some of her friends, who had observed his
previous abstinence, that she would make him drink a glass of wine with
her, before the evening was over. That night week I sat, a lonely
watcher, by the corpse of Henry Leslie. He had died in the horrors of
delirium tremens, and his last cry had been for brandy.

"Oh, it stings me almost to madness," exclaimed Arthur, rising and
pacing the apartment with hurried steps, "when I reflect that that
woman, knowing well his fatal propensity,--knowing, too, how powerful
was her influence over him, for, poor fellow, I believe he would have