t, until the card was written. As I laid it aside with the
rest, the truth flashed on me and sent a thrill of pain along every
nerve. My heart grew sick and my head faint, as thoughts of the evil
that might come to the son of my friend, in consequence of the
temptation I was about to throw in his way, rushed through my mind.
My first idea was to recall the card, and I lifted it from the table
with a half-formed resolution to destroy it. But a moment's
reflection changed this purpose. I could not give a large
entertainment and leave out my nearest friend and her family.

The pain and wild agitation of that moment were dreadful. I think
all good spirits and angels that could get near my conscious life
strove with me, for the sake of a soul in peril, to hold me back
from taking another step in the way I was going; for it was not yet
too late to abandon the party.

When, after a long struggle with right convictions, I resumed my
work of filling up the cards of invitation, I had such a blinding
headache that I could scarcely see the letters my pen was forming;
and when the task was done, I went to bed, unable to bear up against
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 m