Fancy the scene. Groups of persons, gayly dressed, are in conversation in different parts of the ball-chamber. More are constantly coming in. The musicians, who for some time have been tuning their instruments, enter, and take their place. Partners are selected, the circle is formed, and the dancing begins. A scene of hilarity ensues. During the intervals, the merry laugh is heard, wine is drunk, and the glee becomes general. Sparkling eyes are made more sparkling by strong drink; and, under the influence of multiplied potations, the coarse jest is now and then uttered. In this scene of gayety and mirth Charles Duran mingled,--a prominent actor. A young and inexperienced girl had accompanied him to the place. Round and round went the dance, and round and round went Charles's head. He was flush with money, and many a friend did he treat at the bar. Long ere the festivities closed he was unable to walk steadily. Still, stimulated by the excitement of the occasion, and urged on by unprincipled comrades, he poured down the deadly poison. His brain reeled under its influence. He alternately roared and laughed as a maniac. "Another drink! another drink!" he said. His youthful system could endure it no longer: he uttered a moaning, sepulchral groan, and sunk to the floor! The ball was over, and the night was nearly gone. A friend took charge of the thoughtless young girl that had accompanied Charles to the dance. Two young men, his companions in riot, undertook to convey him to his father's house. The stars were just beginning to fade away as they reached the threshold. Speechless, and almost lifeless, they laid him upon his bed. _It proved his death-bed!_ CHAPTER VII. SICKNESS AND DEATH. The debauch of the previous night laid the foundation of disease, from which Charles never recovered. On the following day he seemed at times wild, and partially deranged. A violent fever set in, and for many days he was confined to his bed. His sufferings were extreme; so high did his fever rise that it seemed as though the fire within would consume him. His physician watched the progress of his disease, and did all in his power to restore his health. The fever ran its course, and the crisis came. There was a change for the better. It was thought that he would get up. The hopes of his parents were revived; and many were the wishes that, with restored health, there might be a reformation of manners. Of this, however, there was little prospect. These hopes of a recovery were soon cut off. Charles's disease assumed a new form. He was taken with a cough, and night-sweats followed. His eyes were a little sunken, but full of expression. His countenance was pale, and, slightly tinged with blue, gave evidence that consumption had marked him for its victim, and that the grave must soon swallow him up: he was rapidly sinking into the arms of death.