his mind since he had declared it to Hugh Stanbury under 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 to relieve Martha, dreaming nothing at all of that other doubt to which the important personage downstairs was now subject.  Dorothy was, in truth, very fond of the new friend she had made; but it had never occurred to her that he might be a possible suitor to her.  Her old conception of herself that she was beneath the notice of any man had only been partly disturbed by the absolute fact of Mr Gibson’s courtship.  She had now heard of his engagement with Camilla French,