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948 the bottle to its old place, Newman took up one of the little glasses, and clinked it, twice or thrice, against the bottle, as a gentle reminder that he had not been helped yet. With a deep sigh, Arthur Gride slowly filled it--though not to the brim--and then filled his own. ‘Stop, stop; don’t drink it yet,’ he said, laying his hand on Newman’s; ‘it was given to me, twenty years ago, and when I take a little taste, which is ve-ry seldom, I like to think of it beforehand, and tease myself. We’ll drink a toast. Shall we drink a toast, Mr Noggs?’ ‘Ah!’ said Newman, eyeing his little glass impatiently. ‘Look sharp. Bearer waits.’ ‘Why, then, I’ll tell you what,’ tittered Arthur, ‘we’ll drink--he, he, he!--we’ll drink a lady.’ ‘The ladies?’ said Newman. ‘No, no, Mr Noggs,’ replied Gride, arresting his hand, ‘A lady. You wonder to hear me say A lady. I know you do, I know you do. Here’s little Madeline. That’s the toast. Mr Noggs. Little Madeline!’ ‘Madeline!’ said Newman; inwardly adding, ‘and God help her!’ The rapidity and unconcern with which Newman dismissed his portion of the golden water, had a great effect upon the old man, who sat upright in his chair, and gazed at him, open-mouthed, as if the sight had taken away his breath. Quite unmoved, however, Newman left him to sip his own at leisure, or to pour it back again into the bottle, if he chose, and departed; after greatly outraging the dignity of Peg Sliderskew by brushing past her, in the passage, without a word of apology or recognition. Mr Gride and his housekeeper, immediately on being left alone, |