had been guilty. After returning home from a pleasant company, one evening, at which Clara was present, the wife of Mears said to him-- "You did not seem to enjoy yourself to-night. Are you not well?" "Oh, yes; I feel quite well," returned Mears. "Why, then, did you look so sober?" "I was not aware that I looked more so than usual." "You did, then. And you look sober now. There must be some cause for this. What is it, dear?" Mears was by no means ignorant of the fact that he felt sober. The presence of Clara distressed him more, instead of less, the oftener he met her. The question of his wife made him feel half inclined to tell her the truth. After thinking for a moment, he said-- "I have felt rather graver than usual to-night. Something brought to my recollection, too vividly, a little act of folly that has been attended with serious consequences." His wife looked slightly alarmed. "It was only a joke--just done for the fun of the thing; but it was taken, much to my surprise, seriously. I was innocent of any desire to wound; but a few light words have made two hearts wretched." Mrs. Mears looked at her husband with surprise. He continued-- "You remember the strange misunderstanding that took place between Clara Grant and young Fisher, about two years ago?" "Very well. Poor Clara has never been like herself since that time." "I was the cause of it." "You!" said the wife, in astonishment. "Yes. Clara used to make herself quite conspicuous by the way she acted towards Fisher, with whom she was under an engagement of marriage. She hardly saw anybody in company but him. And, besides, she made bold to declare that he was about as near to perfection as it was possible for a young man to come. She was always talking about him to her young female friends, and praising him to the skies. Her silly speeches were every now and then reported, much to the amusement of young men to whose ears they happened to find their way. One evening, at a large party, she was, as usual, anchored by