Guly expressed his pleasure at the good news, and left
her, and returned home to dream of the mysterious donor of his New Year's gift and Blanche the brodeuse.
The winter glided pleasantly away; summer passed, and winter came again. Fortunately for the brothers, the first summer of their stay in the Pestilential City was free from epidemics of any kind, and they escaped all sickness, with the exception of a slight acclimating fever. All that Guly had to weigh upon his heart was Arthur's dissipation, which gradually grew worse and worse, and he dreaded lest one day he should have the pain of seeing Mr. Delancey discharge him.
Guly had retained the new situation which had been given him, and discharged its duties with honor to himself and to his employer. There was not a clerk in the store but what looked up to him with respect and affection, and since he had become head clerk there had never been a bottle of wine uncorked or a game of cards played under that roof. Mr. Delancey himself, with all his natural coldness and harshness of manner, could not conceal the high esteem in which he held him.
Guly frequently spent his evenings at Wilkins' house, and sometimes Arthur accompanied him; but he could not conceal from himself that those evenings that Arthur went with him were not the pleasantest, there being always a restraint in his presence, which was not felt when he was not there. Wilkins had always rejoiced at Guly's good
fortune in obtaining his vacant situation, and loved to sit by him and talk over the past or chat about Blanche and the happy future.
The evening after the brothers had been visiting at Wilkins', Arthur passed his arm through Guly's, and said:
"I have quite lost my heart, Guly, with a pair of the brightest black eyes that ever shone; she's a pretty little witch, but I am afraid some one has stepped in before me, for I can't contrive to make myself agreeable, and every time I call she grows more and more distant. She lives but a little way from here; what say you to making a call with me? perhaps you could assist me immeasurably. What say you, will you go?"
It was not often now that Arthur make a confidant of Guly, and the younger brother was surprised to find him in such a mood to-night. He had, on his part, with a caution he could scarcely define, always studiously concealed from Arthur his visits to Blanche, and had not sought his confidence lest he might see fit to ask for his own in return; and he answered almost coldly:
"No, Arthur, not to-night. It is already late, and I hope you wouldn't think of calling upon any young lady at such an hour as this."