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port decanter and the glass； it won't look so bad。' And； carrying them； he left the room。
Slowly the old man drank his coffee； and the liqueur of brandy。 The whole gamut！ And watching his cigar…smoke wreathing blue in the orange glow； he smiled。 The last night to call his soul his own； the last night of his independence。 Send in his resignations to…morrow not wait to be kicked off！ Not give that fellow a chance
A voice which seemed to come from far off； said：
〃Father！ You're drinking brandy！ How can youyou know it's simple poison to you！〃 A figure in white； scarcely actual； loomed up close。 He took the bottle to fill up his liqueur glass； in defiance； but a hand in a long white glove； with another dangling from its wrist； pulled it away； shook it at him； and replaced it in the sideboard。 And； just as when Mr。 Ventnor stood there accusing him； a swelling and churning in his throat prevented him from speech； his lips moved； but only a little froth came forth。
His daughter had approached again。 She stood quite close； in white satin； thin…faced； sallow； with eyebrows raised； and her dark hair frizzedyes！ frizzedthe holy woman！ With all his might he tried to say： 'So you bully me； do youyou bully me to…night！' but only the word 〃so〃 and a sort of whispering came forth。 He heard her speaking。 〃It's no good your getting angry； Father。 After champagneit's wicked！〃 Then her form receded in a sort of rustling white mist； she was gone； and he heard the sputtering and growling of her taxi； bearing her to the ball。 So！ She tyrannised and bullied； even before she had him at her mercy； did she？ She should see！ Anger had brightened his eyes； the room came clear again。 And slowly raising himself he sounded the bell twice； for the girl； not for that fellow Meller； who was in the plot。 As soon as her pretty black and white…aproned figure stood before him； he said：
〃Help me up。〃
Twice her soft pulling was not enough； and he sank back。 The third time he struggled to his feet。
〃Thank you； that'll do。〃 Then； waiting till she was gone； he crossed the room； fumbled open the sideboard door； and took out the bottle。 Reaching over the polished oak； he grasped a sherry glass； and holding the bottle with both hands； tipped the liquor into it； put it to his lips and sucked。 Drop by drop it passed over his palate mild； very old； old as himself； coloured like sunlight； fragrant。 To the last drop he drank it； then hugging the bottle to his shirt…front； he moved snail…like to his chair； and fell back into its depths。 For some minutes he remained there motionless； the bottle clasped to his chest； thinking： 'This is not the attitude of a gentleman。 I must put it down on the table…on the table；' but a thick cloud was between him and everything。 It was with his hands he would have to put the bottle on the table！ But he could not find his hands； could not feel them。 His mind see…sawed in strophe and antistrophe： 〃You can't move！〃〃I will move！〃 〃You're beaten〃〃I'm not beat。〃 〃Give up〃 〃I won't。〃 That struggle to find his hands seemed to last for ever he must find them！ After thatgo downall standingafter that！ Everything round him was red。 Then the red cloud cleared just a little； and he could hear the clock〃tick…tick…tick〃； a faint sensation spread from his shoulders down to his wrists； down his palms； and yeshe could feel the bottle！ He redoubled his struggle to get forward in his chair； to get forward and put the bottle down。 It was not dignified like this！ One arm he could move now； but he could not grip the bottle nearly tight enough to put it down。 Working his whole body forward； inch by inch； he shifted himself up in the chair till he could lean sideways； and the bottle； slipping down his chest； dropped slanting to the edge of the low stool…table。 Then with all his might he screwed his trunk and arms an inch further； and the bottle stood。 He had done itdone it！ His lips twitched into a smile； his body sagged back to its old position。 He had done it！ And he closed his eyes 。。。。
At half…past eleven the girl Molly； opening the door； looked at him and said softly： 〃Sirr！ there's some ladies； and a gentleman！〃 But he did not answer。 And； still holding the door； she whispered out into the hall：
〃He's asleep； miss。〃
A voice whispered back：
〃Oh！ Just let me go in； I won't wake him unless he does。 But I do want to show him my dress。〃
The girl moved aside； and on tiptoe Phyllis passed in。 She walked to where； between the lamp…glow and the fire…glow； she was lighted up。 White satinher first low…cut dressthe flush of her first supper partya gardenia at her breast； another in her fingers！ Oh！ what a pity he was asleep！ How red he looked！ How funnily old men breathed！ And mysteriously； as a child might； she whispered：
〃Guardy！〃
No answer！ And pouting； she stood twiddling the gardenia。 Then suddenly she thought： 'I'll put it in his buttonhole！ When he wakes up and sees it； how he'll jump！'
And stealing close； she bent and slipped it in。 Two faces looked at her from round the door； she heard Bob Pillin's smothered chuckle； her mother's rich and feathery laugh。 Oh！ How red his forehead was！ She touched it with her lips； skipped back； twirled round； danced silently a second； blew a kiss； and like quicksilver was gone。
And the whispering； the chuckling； and one little out…pealing laugh rose in the hall。
But the old man slept。 Nor until Meller came at his usual hour of half…past twelve； was it known that he would never wake。
THE APPLE TREE
〃The Apple…tree； the singing and the gold。〃 MURRAY'S 〃HIPPOLYTUS of EURIPIDES。〃
In their silver…wedding day Ashurst and his wife were motoring along the outskirts of the moor； intending to crown the festival by stopping the night at Torquay； where they had first met。 This was the idea of Stella Ashurst； whose character contained a streak of sentiment。 If she had long lost the blue…eyed； flower…like charm； the cool slim purity of face and form； the apple…blossom colouring； which had so swiftly and so oddly affected Ashurst twenty…six years ago； she was still at forty…three a comely and faithful companion； whose cheeks were faintly mottled； and whose grey…blue eyes had acquired a certain fullness。
It was she who had stopped the car where the common rose steeply to the left； and a narrow strip of larch and beech； with here and there a pine； stretched out towards the valley between the road and the first long high hill of the full moor。 She was looking for a place where they might lunch； for Ashurst never looked for anything； and this； between the golden furze and the feathery green larches smelling of lemons in the last sun of Aprilthis； with a view into the deep valley and up to the long moor heights； seemed fitting to the decisive nature of one who sketched in water…colours； and loved romantic spots。 Grasping her paint box； she got out。
〃Won't this do； Frank？〃
Ashurst； rather like a bearded Schiller； grey in the wings； tall； long…legged； with large remote grey eyes which sometimes filled with meaning and became almost beautiful； with nose a little to one side； and bearded lips just