the brothers, who refused it. "I am really sorry
to part with you; but if you must go, good-night," and with a graceful
move of the hand, the young gentleman bade an adieu to his friends, and
turning down another street, was soon out of sight.

The brothers walked on for some distance in silence. Guly was the first
to speak.

"Have you enjoyed your walk, Arthur, as much as you would have done, had
we been left to enjoy ourselves in our own way?"

"Well, I must say, Guly, that I've had a pleasant time. I think young
Clinton a charming fellow, and must confess he has enlivened the last
hour exceedingly."

"And your heart and conscience are both quite as unburthened as they
would have been had you not met him?"

"I'm sure I've done nothing to burden either, Gulian," returned Arthur,
somewhat impatiently. "You must remember I am several years older than
you are, and am expected to act differently from a mere boy like
yourself."

"Did you remember that yesterday was your twenty-first birthday?"
inquired Guly, quietly.

"No!" said Arthur, with a slight start; "and your sixteenth birthday was
last Monday! How differently have they passed from what they used to do
at home, when they were always celebrated together."

"Mother must have remembered us yesterday," remarked Guly. "How she
would have loved but to look over here upon us!"

"I would not have had her seen me yesterday!" exclaimed Arthur, warmly,
"for all the wealth this city ever saw. Her heart would have broken."

"Yet you persist in recognizing your yesterday's companions, and in a
measure practising yesterday's pursuits. Mother never allowed wine to
make its appearance on our birthday-fetes, my brother."

"True, but that was in the North, and our parents were always very
strict. What would you have me do when I meet such a social companion as
Clinton? He has such a pleasant, happy way with him, that one really
can't refuse him; and for my part, a glass of wine, more or less, will
hurt nobody, I guess, materially."

"The social glass has been many a man's ruin, dear Arthur; and it is
better to resist temptation in the beginning, than to fight the
influence of liquor in the end. I wish I could coax you to promise never
to taste another drop."

"What folly," said Arthur, laughing. "Why, my little Puritan, as long as
it is the custom here, why not indulge a little? I think I can promise
you never to be intoxicated. I shall shun that. But when I'm with yo