colored liquor, with a large lump of ice clinking musically against the side of it.
"He's not the only one who's got that way," said Paterson gaily, when he had been supplied with a similar drink.
It's a way we've got in the army,
It's a way we've got in the navy,
It's a way we've got in the 'Varsity."
"And so say all of us," finished Rolleston, noisily, and holding out his glass to be replenished; "I'll have another, please. Whew, it is hot."
"What, the drink?" asked Julia, with a giggle.
"No—the day," answered Felix, making a face at her. "It's the kind of day one feels inclined to adopt Sydney Smith's advice, by getting out of one's skin, and letting the wind whistle through one's bones."
"With such a hot wind blowing," said Paterson, gravely, "I'm afraid they'd soon be broiled bones."
"Go, giddy one," retorted Felix, throwing his hat at him, "or I'll drag you into the blazing sun, and make you play another game."
"Not I," replied Paterson, coolly. "Not being a salamander, I'm hardly used to your climate yet, and there is a limit even to lawn tennis;" and, turning his back on Rolleston, he began to talk to Julia Featherweight.
Meanwhile, Madge and her lover, leaving all this frivolous chatter behind them, were walking slowly toward the house, and Brian was telling her of his approaching departure, but not his reasons for going.
"I got a letter last night," he said, turning his face away from her; "and, as it's about some important business, I must start at,once."
"I don't think it will belong before we follow," answered Madge, thoughtfully. "Papa leaves here at the end of the week."
"Why?"
"I'm sure I don't know," said Madge, petulantly; "he is so restless, and never seems to settle down to anything. He says for the rest of his life he is going to do nothing but wander all over the world."
There suddenly flashed across Fitzgerald's mind a line from Genesis, which seemed singularly applicable to Mr.
