"Rather!" replied Nestley, holding out his glass, which Beaumont filled. "I was a fool to give up this for water. I'm sick of total abstainers--thin-blooded croakers. Here's confusion to them!" and he drank off the second glass. Beaumont now saw that his victim was in that obstinate stage of recklessness which could not brook contradiction, so knew well how to proceed. "Well, we've finished the bottle," he said brightly. "Suppose we go out for a walk." "No--no walk," returned Nestley, with an imbecile grin. "You've stood me a bottle. Now it's my turn." "I don't want any more," said Beaumont indifferently, "and I think you've had enough also." "I haven't," retorted Nestley defiantly. "I'm as straight as a die. I suppose you won't drink with me?" "Oh yes, I will, if you insist upon it." "I do insist," cried the doctor, bringing his fist down on the table with a bang. "You must drink to show there is no ill-will. We were once friends, Basil." "And are so still, I trust," said the artist, cordially. "Your hand," said Nestley, with an outburst of maudlin affection. "Give me your hand." Beaumont suffered his hand to be shaken violently by the doctor, and then that gentleman, now in a hilarious state of excitement, walked to the bell, ringing it with unnecessary violence. Margery appeared in answer, and seemed somewhat astonished at Nestley's state, as he had always been so reserved and quiet in his demeanour. "Another bottle of champagne," said Nestley in a thick voice, coming close to her. "You are a pretty girl." He tried to embrace her, but Margery, who was used to seeing the rustics in a similar state, pushed him away with a hearty laugh, and went off to get the wine. Nestley resumed his seat at the table, talking rapidly to Beaumont about all sorts of things, and then began to boast about himself. "I can do anything--anything, I tell you," he said, looking at Beaumont, who was smoking. "My brain's worth a dozen of any other fellows' Don't you believe me?" "Oh, yes, I believe you," replied Beaumont, as Margery returned with another bottle of champagne; "but, if I were you, I'd take no more wine." "Won't I!" said Nestley in a defiant manner. "You'll see." Margery retreated, laughing at the maudlin condition of the young man, and filling his tumbler up to the brim with wine, he drank it off with an air of drunken bravado. Beaumont, with a sneer on his thin lips, sat calmly watching the grotesque antics of the man he had brought so low, and only took a little of the second bottle. Dr. Nestley sang and laughed and boasted till his legs began to get shaky, and then he sat down and finished the rest of the bottle, thereby reducing himself to a state of hopeless intoxication.