“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.