The door had scarcely closed upon him, ere a tear stole out from the
sad eyes of Mrs. Wilkinson. A few moments she sat in statue-like
stillness, then there was a quick glancing of her eye upwards, while
the motion of her lips showed that she asked strength for herself,
or protection for one whom she loved better than herself.

It was a regular custom with Wilkinson to stop at a drinking-house
on his way to his store, and get a glass of brandy. This was an
afternoon as well as a morning custom, which had been continued so
long that it was now a habit. Yet he was not aware of this fact,
and, if he had thought about the custom, would have regarded it as
one easily abandoned. He had a glimpse of his error on the present
occasion.

To do a thing by habit is to do it without reflection; and herein
lies the dangerous power of habit; for, when we act from confirmed
habit, it is without thought as to the good or evil to result from
our action. Thus had Wilkinson been acting for months as regards his
regular glass of brandy in the morning and afternoon, while passing
from his dwelling to his store. Not until now was he in the least
conscious that habit was gaining an undue power over him.

As the eyes of Wilkinson rested upon the form of a certain elegant
coloured glass lamp standing in front of a well-known
drinking-house, he was conscious of a desire for his accustomed
draught of brandy and water; but, at the same instant, there came a
remembrance of the painful occurrences of the evening previous, and
he said to himself--"One such lesson ought to make me hate brandy,
and every thing else that can rob me of a true regard for the
happiness of Mary."