"Then the miser shall, like us, call for wine, call for wine: And the lover cry for lemon and the bowl, and the bowl: And the merchant send his clerks for brandy fine, brandy fine; And the parson with a bottle soothe his soul, soothe his soul. "And the rogue shall honest grow, o'er a glass, o'er a glass; And the thief shall repent beside a keg, beside a keg: And enmity to friendship quickly pass, quickly pass; While good fellows each to others drink a peg, drink a peg. "All kill-joy envies then shall disappear, disappear; Contented shall we push the bottle round, bottle round; For 'tis cosy, topers all, cosy here, cosy here; Though outside the toil and moil may resound, may resound." Thus did the Doctor stimulate his guests to drink. As the night wore on, one by one dropped away: some, among whom were Sir Miles, dropped asleep; a few lay upon the floor. As for Lord Chudleigh, the fiery liquor and the fumes of the tobacco were mounting to his brain, but he was not, like the rest, overpowered. He would have got up and gone away, but that the Doctor's voice, or his eyes, held him to his place. "I am thinking," said the Doctor with a strange smile, "how your father at one time might have rejoiced to think that you should come here. The recollection of his services to me must have soothed his last moments. Would that I could repay them!" Lord Chudleigh assured him that, so far as he knew, there was nothing to repay, and that, if there had been, his father's wish would certainly have been to forgive the debt. "He could not forgive the debt," said the Doctor, laughing. "It was not in his power. He would have owned the debt. It was not money, however, but a kindness of quite another sort." "Then," said Lord Chudleigh, prettily bowing, "let me thank you beforehand, and assure you that I shall be proud to receive any kindness in return that you may have an opportunity to show me." "Believe me, my lord," said the Doctor, "I have the will if not the power: and I shall not forget the will, at least."