did so is not to be
found in the church service. But Andy was not to be snubbed in that
style. He stepped forward; attempted to sit on the bed's edge;
miscalculated his momentum, and succeeded in landing plump on the
centre of his friend's person.

"Confound you!" gasped the latter, breathless. "You're as drunk as--as
a fool!"

"No, I ain't," chuckled Andy, imperturbably happy. Then he laughed
till the bed shook; composing himself suddenly into gravity, with a
fierce snort--"No, I ain't: you're sober!"

"And when _she_ asked, I said you never drank," reproached the irate
and still gasping Morris. "I _lied_ for you!"

"Tha's nothing. I'll lie for you; lie for you to-morrow--see'f I
don't! Say, Van, ol' boy, I ain't tight; only happy--_so_ happy! Van!
_Van!_" and he shook the pretended sleeper heavily. "I'm goin' to
reform! I'm goin' to be married!"

"_What? Rose Wood?_"

Van Morris sat bolt upright in bed now. The tone of voice in which he
invoked Miss Wood might have brought response from that wise virgin,
disrobing for triumphant rest full ten blocks away.

But he found it vain to argue with Andy's mixed Burgundy and champagne
punch. Contradiction but made him insist more strongly that he _was_
engaged to the old campaigner, whom Morris had so manoeuvred to
outflank. Finally, in a miscellaneous outfit of evening pants,
night-gown, and smoking-cap, he succeeded in getting the jubilant
groom _in futuro_ into bed, where he still hummed at the much-sought
secret of happiness, until he collapsed with a sudden snore, and slept
like the Swiss.

Then Morris walked the floor rapidly, wrapped in thought and a cloud
of fragrant cigar-smoke. Then he threw himself once more into the
smoking-chair, and gazed long and earnestly into the coals, a heavy
frown resting on his face. Suddenly it cleared off; the sunshine of a
broad smile took its place; and Van tossed the end of his cigar
exultingly into the fire. Then he rose and stretched himself like a
veritable son of Anak, when

"Stalwart they court the rapture of the fight."

"I have it, by George!" he cried. "I'll get the poor fellow out of
this box, if the old girl did induce him to pop, and accepted him out
of hand! Andy! I say, Andy, wake up!" and he ran into his chum's room,
dragged him out of bed, and had him at the fire, before he was well
awake.

Mr. Andrew Browne was no longer in a mood even approaching the
jubilant. He had utterly forgotten the s