inter came again.
Fortunately for the brothers, the first summer of their stay in the
Pestilential City was free from epidemics of any kind, and they escaped
all sickness, with the exception of a slight acclimating fever. All that
Guly had to weigh upon his heart was Arthur's dissipation, which
gradually grew worse and worse, and he dreaded lest one day he should
have the pain of seeing Mr. Delancey discharge him.

Guly had retained the new situation which had been given him, and
discharged its duties with honor to himself and to his employer. There
was not a clerk in the store but what looked up to him with respect and
affection, and since he had become head clerk there had never been a
bottle of wine uncorked or a game of cards played under that roof. Mr.
Delancey himself, with all his natural coldness and harshness of manner,
could not conceal the high esteem in which he held him.

Guly frequently spent his evenings at Wilkins' house, and sometimes
Arthur accompanied him; but he could not conceal from himself that those
evenings that Arthur went with him were not the pleasantest, there being
always a restraint in his presence, which was not felt when he was not
there. Wilkins had always rejoiced at Guly's good fortune in obtaining
his vacant situation, and loved to sit by him and talk over the past or
chat about Blanche and the happy future.

The evening after the brothers had been visiting at Wilkins', Arthur
passed his arm through Guly's, and said:

"I have quite lost my heart, Guly, with a pair of the brightest black
eyes that ever shone; she's a pretty little witch, but I am afraid some
one has stepped in before me, for I can't contrive to make myself
agreeable, and every time I call she grows more and more distant. She
lives but a little way from here; what say you to making a call with me?
perhaps you could assist me immeasurably. What say you, will you go?"

It was not often now that Arthur make a confidant of Guly, and the
younger brother was surprised to find him in such a mood to-night. He
had, on his part, with a caution he could scarcely define, always
studiously concealed from Arthur his visits to Blanche, and had not
sought his confidence lest he might see fit to ask for his own in
return; and he answered almost coldly:

"No, Arthur, not to-night. It is already late, and I hope you wouldn't
think of calling upon any young lady at such an hour as this."

"Well, what can I do to pass the time betwe