tasted
very good, and caused me to feel quite elevated. Then he told me that I
had better go to bed, and I fully agreed with him. So, bidding the
enamoured couple a patronizing good night and facetiously wishing them a
pleasant time together--the wine had made me bold and saucy--I left the
kitchen and began to ascend the stairs towards my own room with all the
silence and caution of which I was capable.

I was destined that night to make another astonishing discovery. Being
quite tipsy, I was deprived of my usual judgement, and suffered myself
to stumble against a table that stood upon one of the landings opposite
the chamber door of a young and particularly pretty widow named Mrs.
Raymond, who boarded in the house. She possessed a snug independent
fortune, and led a life of elegant leisure. Although demure in her looks
and reverend in her deportment, there was a whole troop of dancing
devils in her eyes that proclaimed the fact that her nature was not
exactly as cold as ice.

My collision with the table caused me to recoil, and I fell violently
against Mrs. Raymond's door, which burst open, and down I landed in the
very centre of the apartment.

I heard a scream, and then a curse. The scream was the performance of
the fair widow; the curse was the production of Mr. Romaine, my pious,
Sabbath-venerating and theatre-opposing employer, who, springing up from
the sofa upon which he had been seated by the side of the widow, seized
me by the throat and demanded how the devil I came there?

My wits had not entirely deserted me, and I managed to tell quite a
plausible story. I candidly confessed that I had been to the theatre and
stated that I had got into the house through the kitchen window. Of
course I said nothing about Anderson and Mrs. Romaine.

"You have been drinking," said Mr. Romaine, in a tone that was by no
means severe, "but I forgive you for that, and also for having disobeyed
me by going to the theatre. Be a good boy in future, and you shall never
want a friend while I live."

While he was speaking, I looked about the room. It was exquisitely
furnished with the most refined and elegant taste. Mrs. Raymond, who
still sat upon the sofa, blushed deeply as her eyes encountered mine.
She was _en deshabille_, and looked charming. I could not help admiring
the divine perfections of her form, as _revealed_ by the deliciously
careless attire which she wore. I did not wonder that my respected
presence confused her,