with a laugh, “Well, I advise any bashful man to take hashish when he wants to offer his heart to any fair lady, for it will give him the courage of a hero, the eloquence of a poet, and the ardor of an Italian. Remember that, gentlemen, and come to me when the crisis approaches.”

     “Does it conquer the pride, rouse the pity, and soften the hard hearts of the fair sex?” asked Done.

     “I dare say now is your time to settle the fact, for here are two ladies who have imbibed, and in three hours will be in such a seraphic state of mind that ‘No’ will be an impossibility to them.”

     “Oh, mercy on us; what have we done? If that’s the case, I shall shut myself up till my foolish fit is over. Rose, you haven’t taken any; I beg you to mount guard over me, and see that I don’t disgrace myself by any nonsense. Promise me you will,” cried Belle, in half-real, half-feigned alarm at the consequences of her prank.

     “I promise,” said Rose, and floated down the green path as noiselessly as a white cloud, with a curious smile on her lips.

     “Don’t tell any of the rest what we have done, but after tea let us go into the grove and compare notes,” said Norton, as

Done strolled away to the beach, and the voices of approaching friends broke the summer quiet.

     At tea, the initiated glanced covertly at one another, and saw, or fancied they saw, the effects of the hashish, in a certain suppressed excitement of manner, and unusually brilliant eyes. Belle laughed often, a silvery ringing laugh, pleasant to hear; but when complimented on her good spirits, she looked distressed and said she could not help her merriment; Meredith was quite calm, but rather dreamy; Evelyn was pale, and her next neighbor heard her heart beat; Norton talked incessantly, but as he talked uncommonly well, no one suspected anything. Done and Miss St. Just watched the others with interest, and were very quiet, especially Rose, who scarcely spoke, but smiled her sweetest, and looked very lovely.

     The moon rose early, and the experimenters slipped away to the grove, leaving the outsiders on the lawn as usual. Some bold spirit asked Rose to sing, and she at once complied, pouring out Spanish airs in a voice that melted the hearts of her audience, so full of fiery sweetness or tragic pathos was it. Done seemed quite carried away, and lay with his face in the grass, to hide the tears that would come; till, afraid of openly...