Waife's face lighted up. "You are most kind; nothing I should like so much. But--" and the light fled, the face darkened--"but no; I cannot --you don't know--that is--I--I have made a vow to myself to decline all such temptations. I humbly beg you'll excuse me." VANCE.--" Temptations! of what kind,--the whiskey toddy?" WAIFE (puffing away a sigh).--"Ah, yes; whiskey toddy, if you please. Perhaps I once loved a glass too well, and could not resist a glass too much now; and if I once broke the rule and became a tippler, what would happen to Juliet Araminta? For her sake don't press me." "Oh, do go, Grandy; he never drinks,--never anything stronger than tea, I assure you, sir: it can't be that." "It is, silly child, and nothing else," said Waife, positively, drawing himself up,--"excuse me." Lionel began brushing his hat with his sleeve, and his face worked; at last he said, "Well, sir, then may I ask another favour? Mr. Vance and I are going to-morrow, after the sitting, to see Hampton Court; we have kept that excursion to the last before leaving these parts. Would you and little Sophy come with us in the boat? We will have no whiskey toddy, and we will bring you both safe home." WAIFE.--"What--I! what--I! You are very young, sir,--a gentleman born and bred, I'll swear; and you to be seen, perhaps by some of your friends or family, with an old vagrant like me, in the Queen's palace,--the public gardens! I should be the vilest wretch if I took such advantage of your goodness. 'Pretty company,' they would say, 'you had got into.' With me! with me! Don't be alarmed, Mr. Vance not to be thought of." The young men were deeply affected. "I can't accept that reason," said Lionel, tremulously, "though I must not presume to derange your habits. But she may go with us, mayn't she? We'll take care of her, and she is dressed so plainly and neatly, and looks such a little lady" (turning to Vance). "Yes, let her come with us," said the artist, benevolently; though he by no means shared in Lionel's enthusiastic desire for her company. He thought she would be greatly in their way. "Heaven bless you both!" answered Waife; "and she wants a holiday; she shall have it." "I'd rather stay with you, Grandy: you'll be so lone." "No, I wish to be out all to-morrow,-the investment! I shall not be alone; making friends with our future companion, Sophy." "And can do without me already? heigh-ho!" VANCE.--"So that's settled; good-by to you." CHAPTER XIII. Inspiring effect of the Fine Arts: the vulgar are moved by their exhibition into generous impulses and flights of fancy, checked by the ungracious severities of their superiors, as exemplified in the instance of Cobbler Merle and his servant of-all-work.