"Is that a friend of yours?" asked Gerald, curiously.
"No, or, rather, he was once. He was an old school-fellow of mine, and though he has not turned out very well, I can't give him the cold shake."
This was a new expression to Gerald, but he had no difficulty in understanding it.
"I am sorry to say he is a victim of intemperance," proceeded Brand. "I hope you don't drink?"
"No, certainly not," answered Gerald.
"Nor I. I drank some as a young man, but I soon saw the folly of it, and broke it off."
Mr. Brand's appearance hardly bore him out in this statement. His nose was decidedly red, and his complexion mottled. Still Gerald never doubted his assurance. He began to think Brand a man of exemplary habits.
They took the Sixth Avenue cars near the Astor House, and started up-town. Brand signaled the conductor to stop at Twelfth Street, and then turned toward Seventh Avenue. He stopped at a brick house half way down the block, and opened the door with a pass-key. The hall into which he led the way was rather dingy, and the interior suggested a tenement-house.
"I am not very well satisfied with this house," said Brand, "and I shall probably soon make a change. I came here to oblige the landlady, who is an old friend of mine, and was finding it difficult to pay the rent. I wish I could live in the country. Everything is so much neater there. I was born in the country, but my business requires me to live in New York."
"I don't think I should like to live in the city," said Gerald.