Woman As She Should Be | Page 5

him, with a heavy heart;
for I felt certain, in my own mind, of the result, at least to some extent,
of that evening's visit. I need not enter into particulars; suffice it to say,
that Henry Leslie bravely withstood all solicitations, from our sex, to
partake of the destroying beverage, and I was beginning to hope that
my fears would prove unfounded, when the daughter of our hostess, the
young lady to whom I before alluded, approached him with a glass of
sparkling wine in her hand. She was beautiful,--I cannot but
acknowledge that,--and I shall never forget her appearance as she stood
there, a fascinating smile lighting up her animated countenance, and, in
her sweetest tones, begged him to take a glass of wine with her. I
thought of Satan, disguised as an angel of light, and trembled for the
result, as I stood anxiously listening for his answer. It came in the
negative, but the hesitating, half-apologetic tone was very different
from the firm and decided one, in which he had resisted all other
solicitations. But she was not yet satisfied. Womanly vanity must
triumph, no matter how dearly the victory may be purchased.
"'You surely will not be so ungallant as to refuse a lady so small a
favor,'--and her eyes added, as plainly as words,--'but much less can
you refuse me.'
"'You see how society is degenerating, Mr. Bernard,' she said, turning
to me, 'there was a time when a lady's request was deemed sacred, now

we poor women have little or no influence over your sex.'
"'I devoutly wish you had less, Madam,' was my uncourteous reply; but
she scarcely heard me, for Henry, taking the proffered glass, and in a
low tone, murmuring, 'For your sake alone,' quaffed its contents. A
flush of gratified vanity passed over the lady's countenance, for she had
laid a challenge with some of her friends, who had observed his
previous abstinence, that she would make him drink a glass of wine
with her, before the evening was over. That night week I sat, a lonely
watcher, by the corpse of Henry Leslie. He had died in the horrors of
delirium tremens, and his last cry had been for brandy.
"Oh, it stings me almost to madness," exclaimed Arthur, rising and
pacing the apartment with hurried steps, "when I reflect that that
woman, knowing well his fatal propensity,--knowing, too, how
powerful was her influence over him, for, poor fellow, I believe he
would have laid down his life for her sake, was the immediate
instrument of leading to destruction one who might,--had she
encouraged him in his resolution to abstain, instead of luring him to
depart from it,--have been an honored ornament to society, not filling,
as he does to-day, a drunkard's grave, 'unhonored and unsung.'"
There was silence for a few moments in the apartment, for even the
volatile Ella seemed affected at the narration. At length she spoke in a
subdued tone.
"That is certainly a melancholy story, Arthur, and I shall not be able to
get it out of my mind soon. But now that I think of it, have you seen
Agnes Wiltshire since your return?"
"No; but I have been about to inquire several times where she is, and
why have I not seen her before?"
"Simply, because she has abjured society."
"Abjured society!" and Arthur looked up, with a glance full of
astonishment. "What do you mean, Ella? Has she become a nun?"

"Not exactly; but she certainly is a Sister of Charity, in the fullest sense
of the term. It was only yesterday morning she passed our windows
quite early, followed by a servant carrying a large basket, and I can
easily imagine it was on some charitable mission. You must know,
Arthur, for I see by your looks that you are impatient to hear all about
her,--by the bye, it is singular that you should take any interest in her,
considering she is a woman,"----
"Dear Ella, do go on with your story."
"It is well for you, Mr. Arthur, that I am very good-natured, for I should
have an excellent opportunity now of retaliation, for all the unkind
things you have been saying about our sex. But I can be generous, and
will forgive you this time,--so now to our story. You must know, then,
that a great change has taken place in Agnes, ever since the sudden
death of poor Lelia Amberton, the particulars of which I wrote to you at
the time it occurred. Agnes grew very low-spirited, and in consequence
lost her health, and was ordered by the physician to the country, to
recruit her failing strength. On her return, her dejection had entirely
vanished; but still she was very different to what she had formerly been.
To