the double burden of intense bodily and mental anguish.

The cards went out, and the question of the party was settled beyond
recall. But that did not soothe the disquietude of my spirit. I felt
the perpetual burden of a great and troubling responsibility. Do
what I would, there was for me no ease of mind. Waking or sleeping,
the thought of Albert Martindale and his mother haunted me
continually.

At last the evening came, and our guests began to arrive, in party
dresses and party faces, richly attired, smiling and gracious. Among
the earliest were Mr. and Mrs. Martindale, their son and daughter.

The light in my friend's eyes, as we clasped hands and looked into
each other's faces, did not conceal the shadows of anxious fear that
rested on them. As I held Albert's hand, and gazed at him for a
moment, a pang shot through my heart. Would he go out as pure and
manly as he had come in? Alas, no! for I had made provision for his
fall.

The company was large and fashionable. I shall not attempt a
description of the dresses, nor venture an estimate touching the
value of diamonds. I have no heart for this. No doubt the guests
enjoyed themselves to the degree usual on such occasions. I cannot
say as much for at, least one of the hosts. In the supper-room stood
a table, the sight of which had smitten my eyes with pain. Its image
was perpetually before me. All the evening, while my outward eyes
looked into happy faces, my inward gaze rested gloomily on decanters
of brandy and bottles of wine crowding the supper-table, to which I
was soon to invite the young men--mere boys, some of them--and