"How?"
"Why, I'll insist on his taking a glass of that delightful champaign with me, which you sent home yesterday."
"Suppose he declines?"
"I won't take his refusal. He shall take a glass with me."
"We'll see, little sis'. I'll bet on Haley."—And so saying, the young man turned away laughing at the success of his scheme.
That evening, towards nine o'clock, as Haley sat conversing with
Clara, a servant entered the room as usual with bottles and glasses.
George Manley was promptly on his feet, to cut the cork and "pop"
the champaign, which he did, while the servant stood just before
Clara and her lover.
"You must take a glass of this fine champaign with me, Mr. Haley," the young tempter said, turning upon him a most winning smile.
"Indeed, Clara—"
"Not a word now. I shall take no refusal."
"I must be—"