, though of late Dorothy had given him
much teaching thereto. I knew that he had transmitted to his daughter a
large portion of his own fierce, stubborn, unbreakable will, and that in
her it existed in its most deadly form--the feminine. To me after supper
that night was assigned the task of reading and rereading many times to
Sir George the contents of the beautiful parchment. When I would read a
clause that particularly pleased my cousin, he insisted on celebrating the
event by drinking a mug of liquor drawn from a huge leather stoup which
sat upon the table between us. By the time I had made several readings of
the interesting document the characters began to mingle in a way that did
not impart ease and clearness to my style. Some of the strange
combinations which I and the liquor extracted from amid the seals and
ribbons puzzled Sir George not a little. But with each new libation he
found new clauses and fresh causes for self-congratulation, though to
speak exact truth I more than once married Sir George to the Earl of
Derby, and in my profanity gave Lord James Stanley to the devil to have
and to hold.

Sir George was rapidly falling before his mighty enemy, drink, and I was
not far behind him, though I admit the fault with shame. My cousin for a
while was mightily pleased with the contract; but when the liquor had
brought him to a point where he was entirely candid with himself, he let
slip the fact that after all there was regret at the bottom of the goblet,
metaphorically and actually. Before his final surrender to drink he
dropped the immediate consideration of the contract and said:--

"Malcolm, I have in my time known many fools, but if you will permit an
old man, who loves you dearly, to make a plain statement of his
conviction--"

"Certainly," I interrupted.

"It would be a great relief to me," he continued, "to say that I believe
you to be the greatest fool the good God ever permitted to live."

"I am sure, Sir George, that your condescending flattery is very
pleasing," I said.

Sir George, unmindful of my remark, continued, "Your disease is not
usually a deadly malady, as a look about you will easily show; but,
Malcolm, if you were one whit more of a fool, you certainly would perish."

I was not offended, for I knew that my cousin meant no offence.

"Then, Sir George, if the time ever comes when I wish to commit suicide, I
have always at hand an easy, painless mode of death. I shall become only a