e-cup than had come out of his own
kitchen, and he would not let the offence pass unnoticed.

"Are you taking brandy this morning, Sir Louis?"

"Just a little _chasse-cafe_," said he, not exactly understanding
the word he used. "It's all the go now; and a capital thing for the
stomach."

"It's not a capital thing for your stomach;--about the least capital
thing you can take; that is, if you wish to live."

"Never mind about that now, doctor, but look here. This is what we
call the civil thing--eh?" and he showed the Greshamsbury note. "Not
but what they have an object, of course. I understand all that. Lots
of girls there--eh?"

The doctor took the note and read it. "It is civil," said he; "very
civil."

"Well; I shall go, of course. I don't bear malice because he can't
pay me the money he owes me. I'll eat his dinner, and look at the
girls. Have you an invite too, doctor?"

"Yes; I have."

"And you'll go?"

"I think not; but that need not deter you. But, Sir Louis--"

"Well! eh! what is it?"

"Step downstairs a moment," said the doctor, turning to the servant,
"and wait till you are called for. I wish to speak to your master."
Joe, for a moment, looked up at the baronet's face, as though he
wanted but the slightest encouragement to disobey the doctor's
orders; but not seeing it, he slowly retired, and placed himself, of
course, at the keyhole.

And then, the doctor began a long and very useless lecture. The first
object of it was to induce his ward not to get drunk at Greshamsbury;
but having got so far, he went on, and did succeed in frightening
his unhappy guest. Sir Louis did not possess the iron nerves of
his father--nerves which even brandy had not been able to subdue.
The doctor spoke strongly, very strongly; spoke of quick, almost
immediate death in case of further excesses; spoke to him of the
certainty there would be that he could not live to dispose of his own
property if he could not refrain. And thus he did frighten Sir Louis.
The father he had never been able to frighten. But there are men
who, though they fear death hugely, fear present suffering more;
who, indeed, will not bear a moment of pain if there by any mode of
escape. Sir Louis was such: he had no strength of nerve, no courage,
no ability to make a resolution and keep it. He promised the doctor
that he would refrain; and, as he did so, he swallowed down his cup
of coffee and brandy, in which the two articles bore about equal
pro