was all gold, pure gold, good gold,
sterling gold, which how cheerfully would have been stamped such at
Goldsmiths' Hall. And just so those needy minds, which, through their
own insincerity, having no confidence in mankind, doubt lest the liberal
geniality of this age be spurious. They are small Pizarros in their
way--by the very princeliness of men's geniality stunned into distrust
of it."

"Far be such distrust from you and me, my genial friend," cried the
other fervently; "fill up, fill up!"

"Well, this all along seems a division of labor," smiled the
cosmopolitan. "I do about all the drinking, and you do about all--the
genial. But yours is a nature competent to do that to a large
population. And now, my friend," with a peculiarly grave air, evidently
foreshadowing something not unimportant, and very likely of close
personal interest; "wine, you know, opens the heart, and----"

"Opens it!" with exultation, "it thaws it right out. Every heart is
ice-bound till wine melt it, and reveal the tender grass and sweet
herbage budding below, with every dear secret, hidden before like a
dropped jewel in a snow-bank, lying there unsuspected through winter
till spring."

"And just in that way, my dear Charlie, is one of my little secrets now
to be shown forth."

"Ah!" eagerly moving round his chair, "what is it?"

"Be not so impetuous, my dear Charlie. Let me explain. You see,
naturally, I am a man not overgifted with assurance; in general, I am,
if anything, diffidently reserved; so, if I shall presently seem
otherwise, the reason is, that you, by the geniality you have evinced in
all your talk, and especially the noble way in which, while affirming
your good opinion of men, you intimated that you never could prove false
to any man, but most by your indignation at a particularly illiberal
passage in Polonius' advice--in short, in short," with extreme
embarrassment, "how shall I express what I mean, unless I add that by
your whole character you impel me to throw myself upon your nobleness;
in one word, put confidence in you, a generous confidence?"

"I see, I see," with heightened interest, "something of moment you wish
to confide. Now, what is it, Frank? Love affair?"

"No, not that."

"What, then, my _dear_ Frank? Speak--depend upon me to the last. Out
with it."

"Out it shall come, then," said the cosmopolitan. "I am in want, urgent
want, of money."

CHAPTER XXXI.

A METAMORPHOSIS MORE SURPRISING THAN