to face with the young man and maiden, and each of them, as he said
in a low, professional voice, meant for their ears alone, "Peace and
blessing, my children!" drank to the sentiment. Whitford drained his
glass, but Blanche only tasted the wine in hers.

Mr. Elliott stood for a few moments, conscious that something was
out of accord. Then he remembered his conversation with Dr.
Hillhouse a little while before, and felt an instant regret. He had
noted the manner of Whitford as he drank, and the manner of Blanche
as she put the wine to her lips. In the one case was an enjoyable
eagerness, and in the other constraint. Something in the expression
of the girl's face haunted and troubled him a long time afterward.

"Our young friend is getting rather gay," said Dr. Hillhouse to Mr.
Elliott, half an hour afterward. He referred to Ellis Whitford, who
was talking and laughing in a way that to some seemed a little too
loud and boisterous. "I'm afraid for him," he added.

"Ah, yes! I remember what you were saying about his two
grandfathers," returned the clergyman. "And you really think he may
inherit something from them?"

"Don't you?" asked the doctor.

"Well, yes, of course. But I mean an inordinate desire for drink, a
craving that makes indulgence perilous?"

"Yes; that is just what I do believe."

If that be so, the case is a serious one. In taking wine with him a