CHAPTER VI.





MR. RIDLEY went home from that first party with his head as clear
and his pulse as cool as when he came. The wine had not tempted him
very strongly, though its odor had been fragrant to his nostrils,
and the sparkle in the glasses pleasant to his sight. Appetite had
not aroused itself nor put on its strength, but lay half asleep,
waiting for some better opportunity, when the sentinels should be
weaker or off their guard.

It had been much harder for him to refuse the invitation of his host
than to deny the solicitations of the old desire. He had been in
greater danger from pride than from appetite; and there remained
with him a sense of being looked down upon and despised by the
wealthy and eminent citizen who had honored him with an invitation,
and who doubtless regarded his refusal to take wine with him as
little less than a discourtesy. There were moments when he almost
regretted that refusal. The wine which had been offered was of the
purest quality, and he remembered but too well the theory advanced
by Mr. Elliott, that the moderate use of pure wine would restore the
normal taste and free a man whose appetite had been vitiated from
its enslaving influence. His mind recurred to that thought very
often, and the more he dwelt upon it, the more inclined he was to
accept it as true. If it were indeed so, then he might be a man