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"Nonsense!" said Clinton, with a short laugh. "Women, you'll find when you've been here long enough, have less to do with it than rain-water full of wriggle-tails, as they call those young animals that fill our cisterns in summer time, and the no less disagreeable-to one not a native here-muddy water from the river as a beverage. One is absolutely forced to 'tip the goblet red,' in order to have something palatable to rinse down his food. Woman, indeed! Poh! come, have a glass, and be social."

"No," said Guly, firmly, drawing back; "I will not drink. However you may scoff, Mr. Clinton, at woman's influence, it is to that I impute my strength to withstand temptation here. My last promise to my mother, was never to become a wine-bibber, and I shall keep it."

"Bravo!" exclaimed Clinton. "Here's a bumper to your resolution and your mother," and touching glasses with Arthur, he swallowed the contents of his goblet; though his companion, with conscience awakened in his breast by his brother's words, scarcely touched the sparkling beverage to his lips.

"You spoke of the depravity of this city, also"-continued Clinton, shoving back from the table, and wiping his lips. "It isn't, in my opinion, one-half, or, to say the least, any more depraved than any of your Northern cities. The only difference is, here everything is done open and above board; what sin there is, is before your eyes, and you don't feel when you tread our streets, that you are walking over hidden hells, and sunken purgatories, which is, I think, more than you can say in behalf of your Northern cities. Now, isn't it?"

"The fact of all the dissipation and Sabbath-breaking here being openly carried on, is the very worst argument, Mr. Clinton, you could bring forward. It proves how much worse the tendency, when it can so harden the heart of society as to regard it without a shudder, and to look upon such things as right. Sunday absolutely loses its identity here, in the manner in which it is kept; and a little more law, more rigidly enforced, would, I am certain, elevate the standard of society into a purer and more ennobling atmosphere. If men still persisted in sin, the fear of punishment would force them to keep out of sight of those who would be Christians, which, for some, must be really a hard matter now. Yesterday, in coming from church, I met a full company of soldiers, in complete uniform, out for a drill. I passed many stores thronged with customers, even as on a week-day, and received an invitation to attend a horse-race on the Metarie Course; all of which, you will admit, was in jarring discordance with the sermon upon which I was trying to reflect, and the Prayer-Book in my hand."

Clinton burst into a loud laugh.

"The time will come when you'll know better than to reflect upon sermons here, and will put your Prayer-Book in your pocket, instead of carrying it in your hand. People go to church in this place to see and be seen; to learn the fashions and see new faces-not to remember sermons or read prayers. I heard a minister declare, the other day, that he could preach a sermon over every six weeks, and not one in twenty of his hearers would remember to have heard it before. I've had serious thoughts of turning minister myself; donning a gray wig and white cravat, and 'spounding the Bible, as the blacks say, to my deluded hearers. 'Pon honor, it's the most lucrative situation a poor devil can have. Preaching a short sermon, morning and night, to an inattentive but fashionable congregation, who are sure to make a minister popular among 'em, if he don't touch their peculiar sins too closely, give him an immense salary, let him off on full pay for four months in a year, and pay his debts when he accepts a call in another quarter."

"A comfortable situation, I must confess," said Arthur, with a smile. "When you take a stand in the pulpit count upon me for one of your hearers."

"A thousand thanks for your promised patronage," returned Mr. Clinton, with a bow of mock gravity; "but suppose we discuss the matter moving;" and rising, he led the way into the street.

As much as Guly wished to be rid of Mr. Clinton's society, he saw the thing was impossible, at least at present, and submitted to a farther endurance of it with as much suavity as possible. Still keeping by his brother's side, he walked on in silence, anxiously awaiting the moment when their companion should see fit to leave them.

"Hallo!" cried Clinton, suddenly stopping before an illuminated window, and peering earnestly into it, "the new numbers for the next lottery are up; come on, let's go in, and take one jointly."

Arthur thought of his lost portemonnaie, and felt strongly tempted to run the risk of recovering his money in that way; but he remembered that he had nothing wherewith to buy a ticket, and hesitated.

"Don't," said Guly, earnestly, "don't be led into such folly, Arthur. Come, let's go back to the store."

"Not till you have tried your luck once," said Clinton, persuasively; "come, it is but a trifle if you lose it, and think of the chance you run."

"I've left my purse at home," said Arthur, blushing at the falsehood he stooped to utter; "I would really like to join, but can't to-night, really."

"Pooh! if the money is all, I'll advance that; and you can pay me when you like. Come along."

Arthur entered the shop reluctantly, it is true, yet ashamed to confess to his social, open-hearted companion, the compunction he felt. The ticket was purchased, and half given to Arthur.

"If you are determined to purchase a ticket, Arthur," said Guly, gravely, "I must insist that you do not run in debt to Mr. Clinton for it," and opening his purse, he handed to that gentleman the sum just expended for his brother's half of the ticket.

"You are very particular," remarked Clinton, with something like a sneer, and pocketing the change, while he glanced with a look of impertinent curiosity at Guly's grave but beautiful features.

"Do you go our way?" inquired Arthur, turning toward him as they left the shop.

"No; sorry to say I don't," returned Clinton, lighting a cigar, and offering one to each of the brothers, who refused it. "I am really sorry to part with you; but if you must go, good-night," and with a graceful move of the hand, the young gentleman bade an adieu to his friends, and turning down another street, was soon out of sight.

The brothers walked on for some distance in silence. Guly was the first to speak.

"Have you enjoyed your walk, Arthur, as much as you would have done, had we been left to enjoy ourselves in our own way?"

"Well, I must say, Guly, that I've had a pleasant time. I think young Clinton a charming fellow, and must confess he has enlivened the last hour exceedingly."

"And your heart and conscience are both quite as unburthened as they would have been had you not met him?"

"I'm sure I've done nothing to burden either, Gulian," returned Arthur, somewhat impatiently. "You must remember I am several years older than you are, and am expected to act differently from a mere boy like yourself."

"Did you remember that yesterday was your twenty-first birthday?" inquired Guly, quietly.

"No!" said Arthur, with a slight start; "and your sixteenth birthday was last Monday! How differently have they passed from what they used to do at home, when they were always celebrated together."

"Mother must have remembered us yesterday," remarked Guly. "How she would have loved but to look over here upon us!"

"I would not have had her seen me yesterday!" exclaimed Arthur, warmly, "for all the wealth this city ever saw. Her heart would have broken."