never to lend a dollar to any man; number two,
always to have the full value of every dollar I
spend. If you do that, you'll generally find
yourself not a loser in the end. We'll have
another bottle of this eight-shilling port. I've
had the value of this dinner out of you, recollect,
so that I'm not straying from my principle. Here,
waiter, another bottle of this eight-shilling wine!"

"You're a lucky fellow, Deane," said George
Dallas, slowly finishing his second glass of the
fresh bottle; " you're a lucky fellow, to have
plenty of money and to be your own master, able
to choose your own company, and do as you like.
I wish I had the chance!" As Dallas spoke, he
filled his glass again.

"Well, there are worse berths than mine
in the ship, and that's a fact!" said Deane,
calmly. " I've often thought about you, Dallas, I
have now, and I've often wondered when you'll
be like the prodigal son, and go home to your
father, and succeed the old man in the business."

"I have no father!"

"Hain't you though? But you've got some
friends, I reckon, who are not over-delighted at
your campin' out with the wild Injuns you're
living among at present?"

"I have a mother."

"That's a step towards respectability. I
suppose you'll go back to the old lady, some day,
and be welcomed with open arms?"

"There's some one else to have a say in that
matter. My mother is is married again. I
have a step-father."

"Not generally a pleasant relation, but no
reason why you shouldn't help yourself to this
eight-shilling wine. That's right; pass the
bottle. A step-father, eh? And he and you
have collided more than once, I expect?"

"Have what?"

"Collided."

"Do you mean come into collision?"

"Expect I do," said Deane, calmly.

"I'm forbidden the house. I'm looked upon
as a black sheep—a pest—a contamination."

"But the old gentleman wouldn't catch anything
from you. They don't take contamination
easy, after fifty!"

"Oh, it's not for himself that Mr. Carruthers
is anxious; he is infliction proof —he—-  What
is the matter?"

"Matter? Nothing! What name did you say?"

"Carruthers—Capel Carruthers. County
family down in Kent."

"Go ahead!" said Deane, tossing off his wine,
refilling his glass, and pushing the bottle to his
companion; " and this old gentleman is not
anxious about himself, you say; where is your
bad influence likely to fall, then?"

"On his niece, who lives with them."

"What's her name?"

"Clare. Clare Carruthers! Isn't it a pretty
name?"

"It is so, sir! And this niece. What's she
like, now?"

George Dallas tried to throw a knowing
gleam into his eyes, which the perpetual motion
of the decanter had rendered somewhat bleared
and vacant, as he looked across at his companion,
and said with a half laugh: " You seem
to take a great interest in my family, Deane?"

Not one whit discomposed, Philip Deane
replied: " Study of character as a citizen of the
world, and a general desire to hear what all gals
are like. Is Miss Clare pretty?"

"I've only seen her once, and that not too
clearly. But she struck me as being lovely."

"Lovely, eh? And the old man won't have
you at any price? That's awkward, that is!"

"Awkward!" said Dallas, in a thick voice,
"it's more than awkward, as he shall find! I'll
be even with him —I'll—Hallo! What do you
want, intruding on gentlemen's conversation?"

"Beg pardon, sir," said the waiter, to whom
this last remark was addressed; "no offence,
gentlemen, but going to shut up now! We
ain't a supper-'ouse, gentlemen, and it's going
on for twelve o'clock."

Indeed, all the other tables were vacated, so
Deane rose at once and paid the bill which the
waiter had laid before him. Dallas rose too
with a staggering step.

"Coat, sir," said the waiter, handing it to
him; " other arm, sir, please; gently does it,
sir; that's it!" And with some little difficulty
he pulled the coat on: George Dallas cursing it,
and the country tailor who had made it, as he
stood rocking uneasily on his heels and glaring
vacantly before him.

"Come along, old horse," said Deane; " you'll
be fixed as firm as Washington Capitol when we
get into the air. Come along, and we'll go and
finish the night somewhere!"

So saying, he tucked his companion's arm
firmly within his own, and they sallied forth.

CHAPTER VI. DELAY.

GEORGE DALLAS felt that his fortunes were
in the ascendant, when lie arose on the morning
following the dinner with Deane, and found
himself possessed of ten pounds, which he had been
sufficiently sober to win at billiards the previous
night, and consequently in a position to pay off
his landlady, and turn his back upon the
wretched lodging, which her temper, tyranny,
and meanness, had made more wretched. He
lost no time in packing up the few articles he
possessed—mainly consisting of books and
drawing materials and these, together with his
scanty wardrobe, he threw into a couple of
trunks, which he himself carried down the steep
dark staircase and deposited in a cab. The
landlady stood at the door, in the grey morning,
and watched her late lodger, as he strode down
the shabby little street, followed by the luggage-
laden cab. She watched him, wondering. She
wondered where he had got the money he had
just paid her. She wondered where he had got
the money to pay an extra week's rent, in
default of a week's notice. When she had dunned
him yesterday, as rudely and mercilessly as
usual, he had said nothing indicative of an
expectation of an immediate supply of money.
He had only said that he hoped to pay her soon.
"Where did he get the money?" the old woman