really might make his spirit writhe to better effect if I became
benefited. Sober second thought is more or less a profitable
investment.

On the morrow everything was arranged for my departure. I was to leave
Saturday morning.

It was a beautiful day, crisp and clear, with a bare ground which rang
to the heel. In the afternoon I wandered over to the Park and sat down
on a bench, and watched the skaters as they glided to and fro. I
caught myself wishing that I was a boy again, with an hour's romp on
the sheeny crust in view. Gradually the mantle of peace fell upon me,
and there was a sense of rest. I was going to forgive the world the
wrong it had done me; perhaps it would feel ashamed of itself and
reward me for my patience. So Hillars was "going to pieces." It is
strange how we men love another who has shared and spent with us our
late patrimonies. Hillars and I had been friends since our youth, and
we had lived together till a few years back. Then he went to
Washington, from there to Paris, thence to London. He was a better
newspaper man than I. I liked to dream too well, while he was always
for a little action. Liquor was getting the best of him. I wondered
why. It might be a woman. There is always one around somewhere when a
man's breath smells of whisky. A good deal of this woman's temperance
business is caused by remorse. I was drawing aimless pictures in the
frozen gravel, when I became aware that two skaters had stopped in
front of me. I glanced up and saw Phyllis and Ethel, their eyes like
stars and their cheeks like roses.

"I was wondering if it was you," said Ethel. "Phyllis, where is my
cavalier?"