"And what did you think of yourself, sir?" said I, quickly.
"Of course, I was very penitent," he replied. "I went to see him once or twice—nay, twice or thrice—or, by'r lady, some four times,—and when he got better, I tenderly brought him back to the fold."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, I restored him to the bosom of the club, and compassionating the feebleness of his health and extreme lowness of his spirits, I recommended him to 'take a little wine for his stomach's sake,' and, when he was sufficiently re-established, to embrace the media-via, ni-jamais-ni-toujours plan—not to kill himself like a fool, and not to abstain like a ninny—in a word, to enjoy himself like a rational creature, and do as I did;—for don't think, Helen, that I'm a tippler; I'm nothing at all of the kind, and never was, and never shall be. I value my comfort far too much. I see that a man cannot give himself up to drinking without being
