"Well, it's a lesson to me."

"And to me, also."

And, with this not very satisfactory conclusion, the two friends
dropped the subject. Both, since destroying, by a few words spoken
in jest, the happiness of a loving couple, had wooed and won the
maidens of their choice, and were now married. Both, up to this
time, had carefully concealed from their wives the act of which they
had been guilty.

After returning home from a pleasant company, one evening, at which
Clara was present, the wife of Mears said to him--

"You did not seem to enjoy yourself to-night. Are you not well?"

"Oh, yes; I feel quite well," returned Mears.

"Why, then, did you look so sober?"

"I was not aware that I looked more so than usual."

"You did, then. And you look sober now. There must be some cause for
this. What is it, dear?"

Mears was by no means ignorant of the fact that he felt sober. The
presence of Clara distressed him more, instead of less, the oftener
he met her. The question of his wife made him feel half inclined to
tell her the truth. After thinking for a moment, he said--