Hough smiled as at an oft-heard joke. "All right, old man, have it as you please; only let's steer clear of a useless discussion of the subject to-night."
"With all my heart," said Sidwell. The decanter was once more in his hand. "Let's drink to the very good health of Elise on her journey."
Hough hesitated. He had a feeling that there was an obscure desecration in the toast, but it was not tangible enough to resent. "To her very good health," he repeated in turn.
For a moment he looked steadily into the face of his companion, now a trifle flushed. Again an inward monitor warned him it were better to go; but the first flood of the liquor had reached his brain, and the temptation to remain was strong.
"By the way, how are you coming on with your own affair of the heart? Have you propounded the momentous question to the lady?"
Sidwell pulled forward the box of cigars and helped himself to one. "No," he returned with deliberation. "I haven't had a good opportunity. A gentleman from the West, where they wear their hair long and their coat-tails short, has suddenly appeared like an obscuring cloud on the Baker sky. I have a suspicion that he has aspirations for the hand of the lady in question. Anyhow, he's haunted the house like a ghost to-day. Mother Baker has for some reason taken a fancy to your humble servant, and over the 'phone she has kept me informed of the stranger's tribulations. He seems to be meeting with sufficient difficulties without my interposition, so out of the goodness of my heart I've given him an open field. I hope you appreciate my consideration. I fear he's not of a stripe to do so himself."
Hough lit his cigar. "Yes, it certainly was kind of you," he said. "Very kind."
With a sweep of his hand Sidwell brought the two glasses together with a click. "I think so. Kind enough to deserve commemoration by a taste of the elixir of life, don't you agree?" and the liquor flowed beneath a hand steady in the first stages of intoxication.
Hough pushed back his chair. "No," he protested. "I've had enough."
"Enough!" The other laughed unmusically. "Enough! You haven't begun yet. Drink, and forget your loneliness, you benedict disconsolate!"
But again the big man shook his head. "No," he repeated. "I've had enough, and so have you. We'll be drunk, both of us, if we keep up this clip much longer."
The smile left the host's face. "Drunk!" he echoed. "Since when, pray, has that exalted state of the consciousness begun to inspire terror in you? Drunk! Winston Hough, you're the last man I ever thought would fail to prove game on an occasion like this! We're no nearer being babes than we were the last time we got together, unless the termination of life approximates the beginning. Drink!"