o sleep and then rob him of his strength.

The rising man at the bar of a great city who had already served two
terms in Congress could not long remain in social obscurity; and as it
gradually became known in the "best society" that Mrs. Ridley stood
connected with some of the "best families" in the State, one and
another began to call upon her and to court her acquaintance, even
though she was living in comparative obscurity and in a humble way.

At first regrets were returned to all invitations to evening
entertainments, large or small. Mr. Ridley very well understood why his
wife, who was social and naturally fond of company, was so prompt to
decline. He knew that the excuse, "We are not able to give parties in
return," was not really the true one. He knew that she feared the
temptation that would come to him, and he was by no means insensible to
the perils that would beset him whenever he found himself in the midst
of a convivial company, with the odor of wine heavy on the air and
invitations to drink meeting him at every turn.

But this could not always be. Mr. and Mrs. Ridley could not for ever
hold themselves away from the social life of a large city among the
people of which their acquaintance was gradually extending. Mrs. Ridley
would have continued to stand aloof because of the danger she had too
good reason to fear, but her husband was growing, she could see, both
sensitive and restless. He wanted the professional advantages society
would give him, and he wanted, moreover, to prove his manhood and take
away the reproach under which he felt himself lying.

Sooner or later he must walk this way of peril, and he felt that he was
becoming strong enough and brave enough to meet the old enemy that had
vanquished him so many times.

"We will go," he said, on receiving cards of invitation to a party
given by a prominent and influential citizen. "People will be there
whom I should meet, and people whom I want you to meet."

He saw a shadow creep into his wife's face; Mrs. Ridley saw the shadow
reflected almost as a frown from his. She knew what was in her
husband's thoughts, knew that he felt hurt and restless under her
continued reluctance to have him go into any company where wine and
spirits were served to the guests, and feeling that a longer opposition
might do more harm than good, answered, with as much heartiness and
assent as she could get into her voice:

"Very well, but it will cost you the price of a