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.

His companions endeavored to have him remain, but in vain. He
unbolted the door, and, leaving, closed it upon them.

Mrs. Venet, who was standing without, laid hold of his coat, and,
knowing the excited state of Mrs. Dayton, and fearing that the
appearance of her husband would be too much for her to bear,
endeavored to induce him not to enter the room, or, at least, to
wait until he had recovered from the effects of his drinking.