lmost any act of savage vengeance. I began to fear that he suspected
the intimacy which existed between his adulterous wife and her paramour.
By the way it may be as well to remark that I had never told either
Anderson or Mrs. Romaine of the intrigue between Mr. Romaine and the
widow, Mrs. Raymond; and it is scarcely necessary to observe that I was
equally discreet in withholding from my employer and his "ladye love"
all knowledge of the state of affairs between the other parties.

I communicated my fears to Mr. Anderson, but he laughed at them saying--

"Nonsense, my dear boy--why should Romaine suspect anything of the kind?
I and Harriet (Mrs. Romaine) have always been very discreet and careful.
Our intimacy began three or four years ago; and as it has lasted that
length of time without discovery, it is scarcely likely to be detected
_now_. You are quite sure that you have given Romaine no hint of the
affair?"

"Do you think me capable of such base treachery?" I demanded, with an
offended air.

"Forgive me," said Anderson, "I did wrong to doubt you. Believe me, your
fears are groundless; however, I thank you for the caution, and shall
hereafter exercise additional care, so as to prevent the possibility of
discovery. Here is a ticket for the opera to-night; when you return,
which will be about midnight, come to Harriet's room, and we three will
sup like two kings and a queen."

Having dressed myself with unusual care, I went to the opera. While
listening to the divine strains of a celebrated _prima donna_, my
attention was attracted by a group occupying one of the most conspicuous
boxes. This group consisted of a youth apparently about my own age, and
two showy looking females whose dresses were cut so low as to reveal
much more of their busts than decency could sanction, even among an
opera audience. There could be no doubt as to the character of these two
women. I examined their youthful cavalier with attention; and soon
recognized my _quondum_ friend and pitcher--JACK SLACK. Jack was
magnificently dressed, and his appearance was truly superb. The most
fastidious Parisian exquisite--even the great Count D'Orsay himself
might have envied him the arrangement of his hair, the tie of his
cravat, the spotlessness of his white kids. He flourished a glittering,
jeweled _lorgnette_, and the way the fellow put on "French airs" must
have been a caution to the proudest scion of aristocracy in the house.

After a little wh