"Go home!--no, my friend, no: I can't part with you tonight, no, not
for an instant. I have many lessons to give you. How are we to learn
our parts for to-morrow, if we don't rehearse them beforehand? Do you
not know that a single blunder may turn what I hope will be a farce
into a tragedy? Go home!--pooh! pooh! why, man, I have not seen my
wife, nor put my house to rights, and if you do but listen to me I
tell you again and again that not a hair of our heads can be touched."

"You know best, honoured sir; I bow to your decision."

"Bravo, honest Brad! and now for dinner. I have the most glorious
champagne that ever danced in foam to your lip. No counsellor like
the bottle, believe me!"

And the servant entering to announce dinner, Crauford took Bradley's
arm, and leaning affectionately upon it, passed through an obsequious
and liveried row of domestics to a room blazing with light and plate.
A noble fire was the first thing which revived Bradley's spirit; and,
as he spread his hands over it before he sat down to the table, he
surveyed, with a gleam of gladness upon his thin cheeks, two vases of
glittering metal formerly the boast of a king, in which were immersed
the sparkling genii of the grape.

Crauford, always a gourmand, ate with unusual appetite, and pressed
the wine upon Bradley with an eager hospitality, which soon somewhat
clouded the senses of the worthy man. The dinner was removed, the
servants retired, and the friends were left alone.

"A pleasant trip to France!" cried Crauford, filling a bumper.