Ruby-tinted wine, heavy, hard to carry; luscious fruit and strange nuts were served to us with a delicately-flavored cigar, which proved exceptionally inviting, creating the visionary and a decided distaste for conversation, then a sudden, acute realization of fatigue and finally compelling slumber. Faintly I heard Sheldon mutter something about “sleep producing weed,” but in numb indifference I soared beyond this sphere of sordid events, slumbering for hours. The evening was well advanced when my three friends awakened me, crowing, yes, crowing, because their sleep ended before mine. “And on the eve of beholding the divinity,” Sheldon chirped. I sprang up as the room suddenly flared with light and several attendants entered. “To make us beautiful,” Sheldon remarked. We were shaved, perfumed and attired in gorgeous raiment. The customary suit of black, which I preferred, would have created a sensation, but we looked rather well. Saxe. was superb in purple, wearing Octrogona’s armlet of emeralds, and the strange ring of Potolili gleamed upon his hand. Sheldon imagined himself fascinating in claret-shaded folds, and Saunders in a gray toga, sniffed at us disdainfully. I strutted, satisfied, arrayed in white with a rich ornamental border of gold. The finery polished up our tarnished gallantry, yet each felt an inward quivering excitement which we vainly strove to conceal in personalities. I twitted them all for their conceit—they were not a bad looking trio—retaliation was fierce. Sheldon, being a lady’s man, threw out his chest and dark hints concerning the end of the week wherein a certain “smarty” would be wondering what he came over here for and he (Sheldon) would be the bright, shining light of the quartette. Our fun hushed as a magnificent individual entered, bowing ceremoniously. He gave his name, which we immediately forgot when he stated he came to conduct us to Her Graciousness, Alpha Centauri. God! I felt the hot flush rush to my head, then ebb away, and shuddered with sudden chill. Sheldon, ever alert for mischief, glanced my way sharply, then declared I turned the famous “ashen hue,” though he could see no occasion for alarm—there were others—the fair Alpha might—ahem! And twirled his little old mustachios, and leered. Saxe. took my arm, murmuring encouragingly, while the splendid stranger smiled warmly, sympathetically, and not at all like a party who had burned all his passions centuries ago.