“I have resolved to dissolve partnership with Charles,” said Augustine Romaine to his wife, the next morning after his son’s return from the Champaign supper at John Anderson’s.

“Oh! no you are not in earnest, are you? You seem suddenly to have lost all patience with Charlie.”

“Yes I have, and I have made up my mind that I am not going to let him hang like a millstone on our business. No, if he will go down, I am determined he shall not drag me down with him. See what a hurt it would be to us, to have it said, ’Don’t trust your case with the Romaine’s for the Junior member of that firm is a confirmed drunkard.’”

“Well, Augustine you ought to know best, but it seems like casting him off, to dissolve partnership with him.”

“I can’t help it, if he persists in his downward course he must take the consequences. Charles has had every advantage; when other young lawyers have had to battle year after year with obscurity and poverty, he entered into a business that was already established and flourishing. What other men were struggling for, he found ready made to his hand, and if he chooses to throw away every advantage and make a complete wreck of himself, I can’t help it.”

“Oh! it does seem so dreadful, I wonder what will become of my poor boy?”

“Now, mother I want you to look at this thing in the light of reason and common sense. I am not turning Charles out of the house. He is not poor, though the way he is going on he will be. You know his grandfather has left him a large estate out West, which is constantly increasing in value. Now what I mean to do is to give Charles a chance to set up for himself as attorney, wherever he pleases. Throwing him on his own resources, with a sense of responsibility, may be the best thing for him; but in the present state of things I do not think it advisable to continue our business relations together. For more than twenty-five years our firm has stood foremost at the bar. Ever since my brother and I commenced business together our reputation has been unspotted and I mean to keep it so, if I have to cut off my right hand.”

Mrs. Romaine gazed upon the stern sad face of her husband, and felt by the determination of his manner that it was useless to entreat or reason with him to change his purpose; and so with a heavy heart, and eyes drooping with unshed tears, she left the room.

“John,” said Mr. Romaine to the waiter, “tell Charles I wish to see him before I go down to the office.” Just then Charles entered the room and bade good morning to his father.

“Good morning,” replied his father, rather coldly, and for a moment there was an awkward silence.

“Charles,” said Mr. Romaine, “after having witnessed the scene of last night, I have come to the conclusion to dissolve the partnership between us.”

“Just as you please,” said Charles in a tone of cold indifference that irritated his father; but he maintained his self-control.

“I am sorry that you will persist in your downward course; but if you are determined to throw yourself away I have made up my mind to cut loose from you. I noticed last week when you were getting out the briefs in that Sumpter case, you were not yourself, and several times lately you have made me hang my head in the court room. I am sorry, very sorry,” and a touch of deep emotion gave a tone of tenderness to the closing sentence. There was a slight huskiness in Charles’ voice, as he replied, “Whenever the articles of dissolution are made out I am ready to sign.”

“They shall be ready by to-morrow.”

“All right, I will sign them.”

“And what then?”

“Set up for myself, the world is wide enough for us both.”

After Mr. Romaine had left the room, Charles sat, burying his head in his hands and indulging bitter thoughts toward his father. “To-day,” he said to himself, “he resolved to cut loose from me apparently forgetting that it was from his hands, and at his table I received my first glass of wine. He prides himself on his power of self-control, and after all what does it amount to? It simply means this, that he has an iron constitution, and can drink five times as much as I can without showing its effects, and to-day if Mr. R.N. would ask him to sign the total-abstinence pledge, he wouldn’t hear to it. Yes I am ready to sign any articles he will bring, even if it is to sign never to enter this house, or see his face; but my mother-poor mother, I am sorry for her sake.”

Just then his mother entered the room.

“My son.”

“Mother.”

“Just what I feared has come to pass. I have dreaded more than anything else this collision with your father.”

“Now mother don’t be so serious about this matter. Father’s law office does not take in the whole world. I shall either set up for myself in A.P., or go West.”

“Oh! don’t talk of going away, I think I should die of anxiety if you were away.”

“Well, as I passed down the street yesterday I saw there was an office to let in Frazier’s new block, and I think I will engage it and put out my sign. How will that suit you?”

“Anything, or anywhere, Charlie, so you are near me. And Charlie don’t be too stout with your father, he was very much out of temper when you came home last night, but be calm; it will blow over in a few days, don’t add fuel to the fire. And you know that you and Miss Roland are to be married in two weeks, and I do wish that things might remain as they are, at least till after the wedding. Separation just now might give rise to some very unpleasant talk, and I would rather if you and your father can put off this dissolution, that you will consent to let things remain as they are for a few weeks longer. When your father comes home I will put the case to him, and have the thing delayed. Just now Charles I dread the consequences of a separation.”

“Well, Mother, just as you please; perhaps the publication of the articles of dissolution in the paper might complicate matters.”

When Mr. Romaine returned home, his wrath was somewhat mollified, and Mrs. Romaine having taken care to prepare his favorite dishes for dinner, took the opportunity when he had dined to entreat him to delay the intended separation till after the wedding, to which he very graciously consented.

Again there was a merry gathering at the home of Jeanette Roland. It was her wedding night, and she was about to clasp hands for life with Charles Romaine. True to her idea of taking things as she found them, she had consented to be his wife without demanding of him any reformation from the habit which was growing so fearfully upon him. His wealth and position in society like charity covered a multitude of sins. At times Jeanette felt misgivings about the step she was about to take, but she put back the thoughts like unwelcome intruders, and like the Ostrich, hiding her head in the sand, instead of avoiding the danger, she shut her eyes to its fearful reality. That night the wine flowed out like a purple flood; but the men and women who drank were people of culture, wealth and position, and did not seem to think it was just as disgraceful or more so to drink in excess in magnificently furnished parlors, as it was in low Barrooms or miserable dens where vice and poverty are huddled together. And if the weary children of hunger and hard toil instead of seeking sleep as nature’s sweet restorer, sought to stimulate their flagging energies in the enticing cup, they with the advantages of wealth, culture and refinement could not plead the excuses of extreme wretchedness, or hard and unremitting drudgery.

“How beautiful, very beautiful,” fell like a pleasant ripple upon the ear of Jeanette Roland, as she approached the altar, beneath her wreath of orange blossoms, while her bridal veil floated like a cloud of lovely mist from her fair young head. The vows were spoken, the bridal ring placed upon her finger, and amid a train of congratulating friends, she returned home where a sumptuous feast awaited them.

“Don’t talk so loud, but I think Belle Gordon acted wisely when she refused Mr. Romaine,” said Mrs. Gladstone, one of the guests.

“Do you, indeed? Why Charles Romaine, is the only son of Mr. Romaine, and besides being the heir he has lately received a large legacy from his grandfather’s estate. I think Jeanette has made a splendid match. I hope my girls will do as well.”

“I hope on the other hand that my girls will never marry unless they do better.”

“Why how you talk! What’s the matter with Mr. Romaine?”

“Look at him now,” said Mrs. Fallard joining in the conversation. “This is his wedding night and yet you can plainly see he is under the influence of wine. Look at those eyes, don’t you know how beautiful and clear they are when he is sober, and how very interesting he is in conversation. Now look at him, see how muddled his eye is-but he is approaching-listen to his utterance, don’t you notice how thick it is? Now if on his wedding night, he can not abstain, I have very grave fears for Jeanette’s future.”

“Perhaps you are both right, but I never looked at things in that light before, and I know that a magnificent fortune can melt like snow in the hands of a drunken man.”

“I wish you much joy,” rang out a dozen voices, as Jeanette approached them. “Oh Jeanette, you just look splendid! and Mr. Romaine, oh he is so handsome.” “Oh Jeanette what’s to hinder you from being so happy?” “But where is Mr. Romaine? we have missed him for some time.” “I don’t know, let me seek my husband.” “Isn’t that a mouthful?” said Jeanette laughingly disengaging herself from the merry group, as an undefined sense of apprehension swept over her. Was it a presentiment of coming danger? An unspoken prophecy to be verified by bitter tears, and lonely fear that seemed for a moment to turn life’s sweetness into bitterness and gall. In the midst of a noisy group, in the dining room, she found Charles drinking the wine as it gave its color aright in the cup. She saw the deep flush upon his cheek, and the cloudiness of his eye, and for the first time upon that bridal night she felt a shiver of fear as the veil was suddenly lifted before her unwilling eye; and half reluctantly she said to herself, “Suppose after all my cousin Belle was right.”