drug, of which he alone
knew the properties. Why he should do this I could not determine; but
that he had done it I was certain. Besides this, I felt sure that he
personally exerted some influence upon me--a soothing and calming
influence I was forced to admit--still, it could hardly be allowed to
continue. To be under the control, however slight, of one who was
almost a stranger to me, was, at the least, unnatural and unpleasant. I
was bound to ask him a few plain questions. And, supposing Mrs. Everard
were to speak to him about his being betrothed, and he were to deny it,
and afterwards were to turn round upon me and ask what authority I had
for making such a statement, what should I say? Convict myself of
falsehood? However, it was no use to puzzle over the solution of this
difficulty till it positively presented itself. At any rate, I
determined I would ask him frankly, face to face, for some explanation
of the strange emotions I had felt ever since meeting him; and thus
resolved, I waited patiently for the evening.

CHAPTER IV.

A DANCE AND A PROMISE.

Our little French friend, Madame Didier, was not a woman to do things
by halves. She was one of those rare exceptions among Parisian
ladies--she was a perfectly happy wife; nay, more, she was in love with
her own husband, a fact which, considering the present state of society
both in France and England, rendered her almost contemptible in the
eyes of all advanced thinkers. She was plump and jolly in appearance;
round-eyed and brisk as a lively robin. Her husband, a large,
mild-faced placid man--"mon petit mari," as she called him--permitted
her to have her own way in everything, and considered all she did as
perfectly well done. Therefore, when she had proposed this informal
dance at the Hotel de L----, he made no objection, but entered into her
plans with spirit; and, what was far more important, opened his purse
readily to her demands for the necessary expenses. So nothing was
stinted; the beautiful ballroom attached to the hotel was thrown open,
and lavishly decorated with flowers, fountains, and twinkling lights;
an awning extended from its windows right down the avenue of dark
ilex-trees, which were ornamented with Chinese lanterns; an elegant
supper was laid out in the large dining-room, and the whole
establishment was en fete. The delicious strains of a Viennese band
floated to our ears as Colonel Everard, his wife, and myself descended
the stairc