MISS BADSWORTH, M.F.H. 13 



clared that Jack had insulted him, having insinuated that he 

 (Bickersdyke) was not good enough to drink with. Knowing 

 that argument was useless against a person more or less 

 intoxicated, Jack contented himself by saying he had no such 

 intention, that he had had enough, and enough was as good 

 as a feast. 



"That means that you think I have had too much," 

 Bickersdyke said, rising angrily and supporting himself with 

 both hands upon the table. Tom Barlow with his broad 

 back to the company put on the clock a quarter of an hour. 



" Now you just sit down and behave yourself, Mr. Bickers- 

 dyke. I'm surprised at your talking to this gentleman like 

 that ; he has never said anything of the sort." Mrs. Barlow's 

 manner was firm, and Bickersdyke obeyed. 



** I'm always in the wrong, it always ish me, isn't it. Miss 

 Lucy ? Ish never can do right." Then in an injured tone 

 he gave quite a pathetic account of his woes. 



The clock on the mantelpiece struck ten. 



" Now, Mr. Bickersdyke, it's closing time. I must ask 

 you to go," Mrs. Barlow said. Tom Barlow knew his 

 customer of old, and let his wife use her persuasive elo- 

 quence. 



"Jush one more drop of Scosh." 



" No, you cannot be served now." 



" You refush serve me ? " 



*' It's closing time." 



" Then I shall summonsh you 'fore mashistrates." 



" Very well, Mr. Bickersdyke, do so ; but mind and be 

 careful going home, and take care with your candle." 



Mrs. Barlow's motherly voice had its effect. 



" Nobody'd care if I broke my necksh. Good night, 

 Mishish Barlow ; shan't say go'night t'you," looking at Jack, 

 "wouldn't share drinksh." 



Tom Barlow saw that Bickersdyke's tottering steps bore 

 him to the door in safety, and then closed it after him. 



*' Who's that ? " asked Jack Morgan. 



** A clever man who is killing himself with drink," Mrs. 



