w limits of a sacerdotal profession, one can retain
all one's wider sympathies both with human infirmity and the gladder
things of existence."

"You're a true friend, Phineas," said Doggie.

"I am," replied Phineas.

It was just after this that Doggie wrote him a cheque for a thousand
pounds on account of a vaguely indicated year's salary.

If Phineas had maintained the wily caution which he had exercised for
the past seven years, all might have been well. But there came a time
when unneedfully he declared once more that he would never desert
Marmaduke, and declaring it, hiccoughed so horribly and stared so
glassily, that Doggie feared he might be ill. He had just lurched into
Doggie's own peacock-blue and ivory sitting-room when he was
mournfully playing the piano.

"You're unwell, Phineas. Let me get you something."

"You're right, laddie," Phineas agreed, his legs giving way
alarmingly, so that he collapsed on a brocade-covered couch. "It's a
touch of the sun, which I would give you to understand," he continued
with a self-preservatory flash, for it was an overcast day in June,
"is often magnified in power when it is behind a cloud. A wee drop of
whisky is what I require for a complete recovery."

Doggie ran into the dining-room and returned with a decanter of
whisky, glass and siphon--an adjunct to the sideboard since Mrs.
Trevor's death. Phineas filled half the tumbler with spirit, tossed it
off, smiled fantastically, tried to rise, and rolled upon the carpet.
Doggie, frightened, rang the bell. Peddle, the old butler, appeared.

"Mr. McPhail is ill. I can't think what can be the matter with him."

Peddle looked at the happy Phineas with the eyes of experience.

"If you will allow me to say so, sir," said he, "the gentleman is dead
drunk."

And that was the beginning of the end of Phineas. He lost grip of
himself. He became the scarlet scandal of Durdlebury and the terror of
Doggie's life. The Dean came to the rescue of a grateful nephew. A
swift attack of delirium tremens crowned and ended Phineas McPhail's
Durdlebury career.

"My boy," said the Dean on the day of Phineas's expulsion, "I don't
want to rub it in unduly, but I've warned your poor mother for years,
and you for months, against this bone-idle, worthless fellow. Neither
of you would listen to me. But you see that I was right. Perhaps now
you may be more inclined to take my advice."

"Yes, Uncle," replied Doggie submissively.

The Dean,