“What do you call it?” inquired Benson. “Observe me, Jake; a man seems as necessary to some women's religion as a God. In her case, it's that long-legged scarecrow from India! You mark my words, the little fool will marry him! Well, she could 'a done better.” “What!” cried Benson. “Dr. Stillman; no!” “The little fool will marry him,” repeated the judge slowly and sternly. Then he sighed deeply. “And what if she does,” said Benson. “Well, I am glad you can view it so calmly.” “I can, just that calmly,” said Benson cheerfully. “I can't,” said the judge. “To me, sir, it is a mater of considerable moment.” “Oh, I see,” said Benson. “My dear boy, this is a weakness I shrink from revealing, but I feel assured of your delicacy, so I shall speak frankly and without reserve.” The judge considered for a moment. “I have had, how many whiskies, Jake?” “Five,” said his host promptly. “I made it four; but never mind, it's a point on which I am likely enough to be mistaken.” “What's that to do with it?” inquired Benson. “The vine,” said the judge, “inspired some of the choicest outbursts of classic poetry; I suppose the distillery will some day inspire a truly American muse—you don't follow me?” “Not quite.” “The point is that I may speak with an abandon I should eschew at another time. Five hot whiskies make a difference in the intensity of a man's emotions. To-morrow I shall probably regret my candour; so I want to feel that in remembering what I say to-night, you will not fail to recall that this excellent mixture may have had something to do with it.” “I think I understand,” said Benson laughing. “Two o'clock in the morning confidences are always personal, Jake; a man seldom stays up late unless it is to talk of himself, or to drink, and in either case the result is the same; he says too much.” “Aren't you rather forgetting Mrs. Landray?” inquired Benson. “Jake, it's outrageous that she should be allowed to sacrifice herself.” “I didn't know—” began Benson. “You are going to say you didn't know it was a matter of any interest to me.” “Something of the sort,” said Benson. “When I came back you did seem interested, but I didn't take it seriously; and to tell you the truth your interest struck me as premature.” “That was only your inexperience, Jake; it's quite evident your knowledge in such matters is all gleaned at second hand. I dallied with the situation too long. I couldn't quite make up my mind; there are merits in being married, and there are merits in being single; you can't have your cake and eat it, too; and while I was pondering the matter, Stillman cut in. It was plain from the very moment he arrived in town that he was to have the pick of our eligible female population. Disgusting, ain't it?” “Very,” agreed Benson. “I'm threshing over old chaff with you, Jake. My chances now are about like the camel's at getting through the needle's eye, not worth mentioning.” “Then you did come to a decision?”