“Too bad to make such a fool of himself,” one said, while another added, “He ought to have known better than to order champagne, when he knows what a beast a few drops will make of him, and he had a first-class character for to-night, too.”

Richard was never greatly interested in gossip of any kind, but something impelled him now to ask of whom they were talking.

“Of Hal Clifford,” was the reply.  “A friend of his came last night to Moore’s Hotel, where Hal boards, and wishing to do the generous host Hal ordered champagne and claret for supper, in his room, and got drunker than a fool.  It always lasts him a day or two, so he is gone up for to-night.”

Richard had no time to waste in words upon Harry Clifford, and after hearing the story started for his boarding-place.  His route lay past the Moore House and as he reached it the door opened and Harry came reeling down the steps.  He was just drunk enough to be sociable, and spying Richard by the light of the lamppost he hurried to his side, and taking his arm in the confidential manner he always assumed when intoxicated, he began talking in a half-foolish, half-rational way, very disgusting to Richard, who tried vainly to shake him off.  Harry was not to be baffled, and with a stammer and a hiccough he began:  “I say—­a—­now, old chap, don’t be so fast to get rid of a cove.  Wife waiting for you, I suppose.  Deuced fine woman.  Envy you; I do, ’pon honor, and so does somebody else.  D’ye know her old beau that she used to be engaged to, is here?”

“Who?  What do you mean?” Richard asked, turning sharply upon his companion, who continued: 

“Why, Frank Van Buren.  Cousin, you know; was chum with me in college, so I know all about it.  Don’t you remember my putting it to her that first time I met her at Mrs. Miller’s?  Mistrusted by her blushing there was more than I supposed; and so there was.  He told me all about it last night.”

Richard did not try now to shake off his comrade.  There seemed to be a spell upon him, and although he longed to thrash the impudent young man, saying such things of Ethelyn, he held his peace, with the exception of the single question: 

“Frank Van Buren in town?  Where is he stopping?”

“Up at Moore’s.  Came last night; and between you and me, Judge, I took a little too much.  Makes my head feel like a tub.  Sorry for Frank.  He and his wife ain’t congenial, besides she’s lost her money that Frank married her for.  Serves him right for being so mean to Mrs. Markham, and I told him so when he opened his heart clear to the breast-bone and told me all about it; how his mother broke it up about the time you were down there; and, Markham, you don’t mind my telling you, as an old friend, how he said she went to the altar with a heavier heart than she would have carried to her coffin.  Quite a hifalutin speech for Frank, who used to be at the foot of his class.”