nder the
midnight lamps of Long Acre, when warmed by the influence of oysters
and whisky toddy. The whisky toddy had in that instance brought out
truth and not falsehood,--as is ever the nature of whisky toddy and
similar dangerous provocatives. There is no saying truer than that
which declares that there is truth in wine. Wine is a dangerous
thing, and should not be made the exponent of truth, let the truth
be good as it may; but it has the merit of forcing a man to show his
true colours. A man who is a gentleman in his cups may be trusted to
be a gentleman at all times. I trust that the severe censor will not
turn upon me, and tell me that no gentleman in these days is ever to
be seen in his cups. There are cups of different degrees of depth;
and cups do exist, even among gentlemen, and seem disposed to hold
their own let the censor be ever so severe. The gentleman in his cups
is a gentleman always; and the man who tells his friend in his cups
that he is in love, does so because the fact has been very present
to himself in his cooler and calmer moments. Brooke Burgess, who
had seen Hugh Stanbury on two or three occasions since that of the
oysters and toddy, had not spoken again of his regard for Hugh's
sister; but not the less was he determined to carry out his plan and
make Dorothy his wife if she would accept him. But could he ask her
while the old lady was, as it might be, dying in the house? He put
this question to himself as he travelled down to Exeter, and had told
himself that he must be guided for an answer by circumstances as
they might occur. Hugh had met him at the station as he started for
Exeter, and there had been a consultation between them as to the
propriety of bringing about, or of attempting to bring about, an
interview between Hugh and his aunt. "Do whatever you like," Hugh had
said. "I would go down to her at a moment's warning, if she should
express a desire to see me."

On the first night of Brooke's arrival this question had been
discussed between him and Dorothy. Dorothy had declared herself
unable to give advice. If any message were given to her she would
deliver it to her aunt, but she thought that anything said to her
aunt on the subject had better come from Brooke himself. "You
evidently are the person most important to her," Dorothy said, "and
she would listen to you when she would not let any one else say a
word." Brooke promised that he would think of it; and then Dorothy
tripped up t