“Well Belle, I can’t see the harm in it, I don’t believe there was another soul who refused except you and Mr. Freeman, and you are so straightlaced, and he is rather green, just fresh from the country, it won’t take him long to get citified.”

“Citified or countrified, I couldn’t help admiring his strength of principle which stood firm in the midst of temptation and would not yield to the blandishments of the hour.  And so you will not go out with me this morning?”

“Oh!  No Belle, I am too tired.  Won’t you excuse me?”

“Certainly, but I must go.  Good morning.”

“What a strange creature my cousin Belle is,” said Jeanette, to herself as Miss Gordon left the room.  “She will never be like any one else.  I don’t think she will ever get over my offering Mr. Romaine that glass of wine, I wish she hadn’t seen it, but I’ll try and forget her and go to sleep.”

But Jeanette was not destined to have the whole morning for an unbroken sleep.  Soon after Bell’s departure the bell rang and Charles Romaine was announced, and weary as Jeanette was, she was too much interested in his society to refuse him; and arraying herself in a very tasteful and becoming manner, she went down to receive him in the parlor.

Chapter VII

Very pleasant was the reception Jeanette Roland gave Mr. Romaine.  There was no reproof upon her lips nor implied censure in her manner.  True he had been disguised by liquor or to use a softer phrase, had taken too much wine.  But others had done the same and treated it as a merry escapade, and why should she be so particular?  Belle Gordon would have acted very differently but then she was not Belle, and in this instance she did not wish to imitate her.  Belle was so odd, and had become very unpopular, and besides she wished to be very very pleasant to Mr. Romaine.  He was handsome, agreeable and wealthy, and she found it more congenial to her taste to clasp hands with him and float down stream together, than help him breast the current of his wrong tendencies, and stand firmly on the rock of principle.

“You are looking very sweet, but rather pensive this morning,” said Mr. Romaine, noticing a shadow on the bright and beautiful face of Jeanette, whose color had deepened by the plain remarks of her cousin Belle.  “What is the matter?”

“Oh nothing much, only my cousin Belle has been here this morning, and she has been putting me on the stool of repentance.”

“Why! what have you been doing that was naughty?”

“Oh! she was perfectly horror-stricken when I told her about the wine we drank and Mrs. Glossop’s party.  I wish I had not said a word to her about it.”

“What did she say?”

“Oh she thought it was awful, the way we were going on.  She made me feel that I died [sic] something dreadful when I offered you a glass of wine at Ma’s silver wedding.  I don’t believe Belle ever sees a glass of wine, without thinking of murder, suicide and a drunkard’s grave.”