ireplace hits the slender andiron and bounces out upon the rug; the
liquor that you carried so amiably and sensibly in New York mixes with
the exciting air of the place where the young lady you are attentive to
lives, and you make four asses of yourself and seven fools, and wake up
with your first torturing headache and your first humiliating apology.
Americans (with the unfortunate exception of us who make a business of
it) are the greatest phrase-makers the world has ever known. Larkin's
judgment was good; he was a modest young fellow of very decent
instincts, he was neither a born gambler nor a born drinker; but, in the
American phrase, "he was _in_ wrong."

Bad luck is not a good excuse for a failure in character; but God knows
how wickedly provocative thereof it can be. The elders of the Aiken Club
did not notice that Larkin was slipping from grace, because his slipping
was gradual; but they noticed all of a sudden, with pity, chagrin (for
they liked him), and kindly contempt, that he had fallen. Forthwith a
wave of reform swept over the Aiken Club, or it amounted to that. Rich
men who did not care a hang about what they won or lost refused to play
for high stakes; Larkin's invitations to cocktails were very largely
refused; no bets were made in his presence (and I must say that this was
a great cause of languishment in certain men's conversation), and the
young man was mildly and properly snubbed. This locking of the stable
door, however, had the misfortune to happen just after the horse had
bolted. Larkin had run through the most of his money; he did not know
how he was to pay his bed and board at Willcox's, where he was now
stopping; his family were in no position to help him; he knew that he
was beginning to be looked on with contempt; he thought that he was
seriously in love with Miss Tennant. He could not see any way out of
anything; knew that a disgraceful crash was imminent, and for all these
troubles he took the wrong medicine. Not the least foolish part of this
was that it was medicine for which he would be unable to pay when the
club bill fell due. From after breakfast until late at night he kept
himself, not drunk, but stimulated.... And then one day the president of
the club spoke to him very kindly--and the next day wouldn't speak to
him at all.

The proper course would have been for Larkin to open his heart to any of
a dozen men. Any one of them would have straightened him out mentally
and financial