uld see me go through
such a performance."

"There was nothing objectionable in it; and for that matter, we all
have to do what we do not quite like. I am sure it was very good of
you to let us come, and I enjoyed myself very much. By the way, when
you sing any of the songs, which are not comic, do you feel them? I
often wonder if a professional gentleman who can produce such an effect
on others, produces anything like the same effect on himself."

"It depends upon the mood. Do you know now that when I was singing
to-night that stupid thing about the sailor and his Portsmouth Poll, it
all at once came to my mind that no Portsmouth Poll would ever wait for
me. Did you ever hear anything so ridiculously absurd--such a bit of
maudlin nonsense. I laughed at myself afterwards. It gave me a good,
idea, though. I'll compose a burlesque, and the refrain shall be,
weeping--

"No Po-o-ortsmouth Poll is a-waiting for me."

"I don't think it was absurd," said Miriam gravely.

"You don't?" he replied, in a suddenly changed tone.

"No."

"The path is rather narrow here; you had better come a little closer."
He took her hand, and pulled her arm a little further through his own.
Was it fancy or not? He thought he detected that the pressure on his
arm was increased. When they reached Nelson Square they had supper,
and after supper Andrew and Montgomery, according to custom, enjoyed
themselves over the tobacco and whisky. Miriam knew well enough, long
before they separated, that it was time for Andrew at least to go to
bed, but she was unwilling to break up the party. At last, when it was
past one, Mr. Montgomery rose. Andrew had had more whisky than was
good for him, and Miriam went with their guest to the door. He had a
strong head, and could drink a good deal of liquor without confusing
it, but liquor altered him nevertheless. To-night it made him more
serious, and yet, strangely enough, strengthened the evil tendency in
him to cross his seriousness with instantaneous levity. He was much
given to mocking his own emotions, not only to others, but to himself.
When the door opened, he looked out into the night, and if there had
been a lamp there Miriam would have seen that for a moment his face was
very sad, but he at once recovered, or seemed to recover.

"Ah, well, I must be off. It is dark, it is late, and it rains, and
alas

"No Po-o-ortsmouth Poll is a-waiting for me."

Miriam was silent. She pitie