rvous system was fast giving way, and that he was on
the verge of mania. Without replying the lawyer went back to the bar,
at which he had just been drinking. Calling for brandy, he poured a
tumbler nearly half full, and after adding a little water gave it to
Ridley, who drank the whole of it before withdrawing the glass from his
lips.

"It was very kind of you," said the wretched man as he began to feel
along his shaking nerves the stimulating power of the draught he had
taken. "I was in a desperate bad way."

"And you are not out of that way yet," replied the other. "Why don't
you stop this thing while a shadow of hope remains?"

"It's easy enough to say stop"--Ridley spoke in a tone of
fretfulness--"and of about as much use as to cry 'Stop!' to a man
falling down a precipice or sweeping over a cataract. I can't stop."

His old friend gazed at him pityingly, then, shrugging his shoulders,
he bade him good-morning. From the bar Ridley drifted to the
reading-room, where he made a feint of looking over the newspapers.
What cared he for news? All his interest in the world had become
narrowed down to the ways and means of getting daily enough liquor to
stupefy his senses and deaden his nerves. He only wanted to rest now,
and let the glass of brandy he had taken do its work on his exhausted
system. It was not long before he was asleep. How long he remained in
this state he did not know. A waiter, rudely shaking him, brought him
back to life's dreary consciousness again and an order to leave the
reading room sent him out upon the street to go he knew not whither.

Night had come, and Ethel, with a better meal ready for her father than
she had been able to prepare for him in many weeks, sat anxiously
awaiting his return. Toward her he had always been kind and gentle. No
matter how much he might be under the influence of liquor, he had never
spoken a harsh word to this patient, loving, much-enduring child. For
her sake he had often made feeble efforts at reform, but appetite had
gained such mastery; over him that resolution was as flax in the flame.

It was late in the evening when Mr. Ridley returned home. Ethel's quick
ears detected something unusual in his steps as he came along the
entry. Instead of the stumbling or shuffling noise with which he
generally made his way up stairs, she noticed that his footfalls were
more distinct and rapid. With partially suspended breath she sat with
her eyes upon the door until it wa