with some trouble he discovered a couple of glasses.

"It is reversing the order of things," he muttered, "reversing the
order of things. But no matter. Sufficient for the day--"

As they continued to converse, Everope's contempt for his companion,
slid gradually into familiarity. At length the latter, after glancing
round the room, exclaimed:--

"Egad! Everope, I guess you're not in arrears for rent?"

"Why so, sir?" asked the spendthrift, with a return of his distant
manner.

"Why, there's nothing to levy."

Everope laughed, and dismal it was to hear.

"Clients are few," suggested Sinson, ignorantly.

No answer.

"Family unfriendly," continued the intruder.

"Family!" shouted Everope, springing to his feet with an oath, "what
d'ye mean, sir?" He clenched his fist, but it fell to his side. "Ha!"
said he, "I am feeble--

'Some undone widow sits upon my arm,
And takes away the use o't; and my sword,
Glued to my scabbard with wronged orphans' tears,
Will not be drawn.'

Kean, sir, Kean----" He sank into his chair, and burst into tears.

This paroxysm restored him to some degree of recollection. When it
passed away, Sinson drew his chair near him, and laid his hand on his
arm. The spendthrift shrank from the touch. Michael quietly took out
his purse, and allowed some pieces of gold to roll on the table.

"Mr. Everope," said he, in the oiliest tones possible, "I ask your
pardon for my impertinent intrusion. It was meant all in good will. I
was sorry to see the scurvy tricks fortune played you to-night. I came
to ask if this petty sum would be any accommodation."

"Sir," Everope answered, while his fingers twitched convulsively, "I
do not take such accommodation from strangers."

"We need not be strangers," said Sinson. "And if you are so delicate,
you can give me your note of hand. I assure you I do not want the
trifle."

Everope looked about the room.

"By the way," continued the tempter, "there's a fellow in the Temple
called Morton. Pupil of a Mr. Travers. Know him?"

"I may have seen him at Travers's," the spendthrift answered,
sullenly.

"I wish you could find out who he is," Sinson said, "and what he's
doing. I have a sort of interest in him."

Everope only continued searching about the apartment.

"Was it paper you were looking for?" Sinson asked, and tore a leaf
from his pocket-book.

I O U wrote Everope.

It requires no parchment and blood now-a-days to sign a co