“No,” was the reply; “he wouldn’t get over it till morning, and his father and mother would be worried about him. No, I’ll take him home.” “Then I’ll send for a close carriage for you.” “No, you needn’t. He can walk well enough.” “My gracious! Look here! you don’t want to show that young man up on the street like that, do you?” Van Loan turned on the man savagely. “It’s none of your business what I want to do!” he exclaimed. “Your part of the programme was ended when you got him drunk. Now you mind your affairs, and I’ll mind mine. Come, Charley, let’s go.” He went to Lee, took his arm, and led him toward the door. The maudlin young fellow waved his free hand broadly to the group at the bar. “Good-by, gen’l’men!” he shouted. “By, Billy! Come an’ see us. Father d’lighted to see you any time.” The saloon-keeper shrugged his shoulders suggestively, and made motions as if to wash his hands, as once did Pilate of old. Van Loan struck the screen door open, and the two young men passed out into the street. It was no easy task to guide Lee’s wavering footsteps. His weight rested heavily on Van Loan’s arm; and at frequent intervals he insisted on stopping and facing his companion, in order to give greater emphasis to some expression of his drunken fancy. They met many people. Some of them, who knew both young men, looked askance at them as they approached, and then passed on with knowing looks and scornful smiles. At the corner of Centre and Concord Streets they came upon Miss Darcy, a charming girl to whom Lee had taken a strong fancy. She stopped suddenly, staring at the pair in surprise. “Is he ill, sir?” she asked. “Worse than that,” replied Van Loan, smiling. “You had better pass on, Miss Darcy; his society is not agreeable to-day.” She knew what the man meant, and turned away in sorrow and humiliation. Poor Lee, on seeing her, had attempted to lift his hat, but had pushed it from his head instead, and it had rolled into the street. “S’cuse me, Miss Darcy,” he stammered; “somew’at tired to-day. My frien’, Mr. Vanly, he--I--” But Miss Darcy was already out of hearing. Van Loan braced his charge against a tree, and went to recover the hat. Street-boys came up, and began to poke fun at the unfortunate fellow, following him with jeers as he moved on. Half-way up Concord Street the pair met President Mather, driving down with some ladies of his family. Lee discovered them, waved his hand grandly toward the carriage, and called out: “’Ello, Prexy! Beau’ful day, ladies! Comp’ments of season to you all!” The president reined in his team, observed Charley an instant, and drove on. They met a dozen people from College Hill, acquaintances of both men, ladies and gentlemen, who stopped for a moment to make sure that it was a case of inebriety and not of illness, and then passed on in pained surprise.