n they rang at the bell. "It wasn't
a bad joke for once in a way. But really, Blyth is such a good
kind-hearted fellow, it seems too bad--in short, don't let's do it next
time, that's all!"

Mat gruffly repudiated the slightest intention of deceiving their
guest as to the strength of the liquor he had drunk. They went into
the Painting Room, and found Mr. Blyth there, pale and penitent, but
manfully preparing to varnish The Golden Age, with a very trembling
hand, and a very headachy contraction of the eyebrows.

"Ah, Zack, Zack! I ought to lecture you about last night," said
Valentine; "but I have no right to say a word, for I was much the
worst of the two. I'm wretchedly ill this morning, which is just what I
deserve; and heartily ashamed of myself, which is only what I ought
to be. Look at my hand! It's all in a tremble like an old man's. Not
a thimbleful of spirits shall ever pass my lips again: I'll stick to
lemonade and tea for the rest of my life. No more Squaw's Mixture for
me! Not, my dear sir," continued Valentine, addressing Mat, who had been
quietly stealing a glance at the bureau, while the painter was speaking
to young Thorpe. "Not, my dear sir, that I think of blaming you, or
doubt for a moment that the drink you kindly mixed for me would have
been considered quite weak and harmless by people with stronger heads
than mine. It was all my own fault, my own want of proper thoughtfulness
and caution. If I misconducted myself last night, as I am afraid I did,
pray make allowances--"

"Nonsense!" cried Zack, seeing that Mat was beginning to fidget away
from Valentine, instead of returning an answer. "Nonsense! you were
glorious company. We were three choice spirits, and you were number One
of the social Trio. Away with Melancholy! Do you still keep in the same
mind about drawing Mat's arms? He will be delighted to come, and
so shall I; and we'll all get virtuously uproarious this time, on
toast-and-water and tea."

"Of course I keep in the same mind," returned Mr. Blyth. "I had my
senses about me, at any rate, when I invited you and your friend here
to-night. Not that I shall be able to do much, I am afraid, in the way
of drawing--for a letter has come this morning to hurry me into the
country. Another portrait-job has turned up, and I shall have to start
to-morrow. However, I can get in the outline of your friend's arms
to-night, and leave the rest to be done when I come back--Shall I take
that sketch down