A few nights afterward, Eliza asked me if I thought that the tonic port had stood long enough. "Yes," I said; "I will decant it for you, and then if Miss Sakers calls you might say carelessly that you were just going to have a glass of port, and would be glad if she would join you." "No, thank you," she said; "I don't want to deceive Miss Sakers." "You could mention that it was rich in phosphates. There need be no deception about it." "Well, then, I don't want to lose the few friends we've got." "As you please, Eliza. It seems a pity to waste more than half a bottle of good wine." "Bottle of what?" "You heard what I said." "Well, drink it yourself, if you like it." * * * * * Some weeks afterward I found the bottle of Tarret's Tonic Port still standing in the sideboard. I gave it to our servant, explaining to her that it would be best mixed with water. There was still the risk of her acquiring drinking habits, but I could think of no one else to give it to. That night Eliza found the girl crying in the kitchen. When Eliza asked what was the matter, she said that she would rather say nothing, but that she was wishful to leave at the end of her month. Of course Eliza blamed me, but I had told the girl as distinctly as I could speak that it was a wine which required dilution. However, Eliza persuaded her to stay on. The girl took the pledge on the following day, and seemed changed in many ways. She put the bottle back in the sideboard; there was still more than half of it left. * * * * * After that nothing happened with reference to the tonic port, until one day I noticed that our cat (who had recently lost her kittens) seemed in a poor state of health. I gave it a few spoonfuls of the tonic port in a little milk. It drank it with avidity, somewhat to my surprise. I had one or two little things to do in the garden after that, and when I came back Eliza said that the cat had become so very strange in its manner that she had thought it best to lock it in the coal-cellar. I went to look at it, and found it lying on its back, dead. It had a singularly happy expression on its face. Both Eliza and myself were very sorry to lose it. [Illustration: "_It had a singularly happy expression on its face._"] I judged it best to say nothing about the port. But the bottle had gone from the sideboard. Eliza said that she had removed it, to prevent further accidents. I told the head clerk about it, but he only laughed in the silliest way. He is a most ill-bred man, in my opinion. THE GENTLEMAN OF TITLE