n't you, and I'll make it worth while for
both of you?"

"Oh yesh, I'll shpeak to him," said Ned, as his head fell on the table
and his senses utterly forsook him.

"Bah! you beast," muttered Gorman, casting a glance of scorn on his
friend as he rose to leave. He had the sense, before going, to
extinguish the candle, lest Ned should overturn it and set the house on
fire; not that he cared either for Ned or the house, but as the former
happened to be necessary to him just then, he did not wish him to be
burned too soon. Then he went out, closing the door softly after him.

Half an hour afterwards Ned's friend and fellow-lodger, John Barret,
entered the room, accompanied by Fred Auberly.

"Come, Fred," said the former, "we can chat here without interr--
hallo--"

"What's wrong?" inquired Fred, endeavouring to make out objects by the
feeble flicker of the fire, while his friend struck a light.

Barret did not reply, but the light soon revealed Ned's disreputable
figure half sprawling on and half clinging to the table.

"Surely this is not your chum, John?" asked Fred in surprise.

"Yes, that's him," answered Barret in a low sad voice. "Help me to get
him into bed, like a good fellow."

Without a word the young men raised the drunken figure in their arms,
and laid it like some loathsome object on one of the beds in the
adjoining room.

"How can you stay with him?" asked Auberly, after they had returned to
the other room and seated themselves at the fire.

"He is an old schoolfellow of mine," said Barret in a low voice. "I'm
sorry you've seen him in this state. He was a very different fellow
once, I assure you; and if it were not for that accursed drink he would
be as pleasant a companion as exists. You know I have no friends in
London save yourself, Fred, and this young fellow.--I came to stay with
him at first, not knowing his character, and now I remain to try to--
to--save him; but I fear his case is hopeless. Come, Fred, we won't
talk of it. You were saying, as we came along, that your father is
sterner than ever, were you not?"

"Ay," said Fred, with a sigh, "he won't even let me call to see my
sister too--that's the worst of it. For the rest I care not; my brush
has sustained me hitherto, and my love for my profession increases every
hour. I feel towards it, John, as a man may be supposed to feel towards
the sweet, young girl whom wicked guardians had for a long time refused
to let him wed. N