When I have traversed the streets a houseless wanderer, driven with curses from every door where I have solicited alms, and with blows from every gateway where I have sought shelter,—when I have crept into some deserted building, and stretched my wearied limbs upon a bulk, in the vain hope of repose,—or, worse than all, when, frenzied with want, I have yielded to horrible temptation, and earned a meal in the only way I could earn one,—when I have felt, at times like these, my heart sink within me, I have drank of this drink, and have at once forgotten my cares, my poverty, my guilt. I must have been very wound up. “Please make yourselves comfortable while I see to the coffee. “You look more like your old self when you smile,” he remarked. "As yet," pursued the stranger, "Sir Montacute had placed no limit to his son's expenditure. I know he is dead.
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