“No; I speak the words of truth and soberness,” she answered, her face rising in color and her eyes brightening.  “What great difference is there between a drinking-saloon, where liquor is sold, and a gentleman’s dining-room, where it is given away?  The harm is great in both—­greatest, I fear, in the latter, where the weak and unguarded are allured and their tastes corrupted.  There is a ban on the drinking-saloon.  Society warns young men not to enter its tempting doors.  It is called the way of death and hell.  What makes it accursed and our home saloon harmless?  It is all wrong, Mr. Birtwell—­all wrong, wrong, wrong! and to-day we are tasting some of the fruit, the bitterness of which, I fear, will be in our mouths so long as we both shall live.”

Mrs. Birtwell broke down, and sinking back in her chair, covered her face with her hands.

“I must go to Frances,” she said, rising after a few moments.

“Not now, Margaret,” interposed her husband.  “Wait for a while.  Archie is neither murdered nor frozen to death; you may take my word for that.  Wait until the morning advances, and he has time to put in an appearance, as they say.  Henry can go round after breakfast and make inquiry about him.  If he is still absent, then you might call and see Mrs. Voss.  At present the snow lies inches deep and unbroken on the street, and you cannot possibly go out.”

Mrs. Birtwell sat down again, her countenance more distressed.

“Oh, if it hadn’t happened in our house!” she said.  “If this awful thing didn’t lie at our door!”

“Good Heavens, Margaret! why will you take on so?  Any one hearing you talk might think us guilty of murder, or some other dreadful crime.  Even if the worst fears are realized, no blame can lie with us.  Parties are given every night, and young men, and old men too, go home from them with lighter heads than when they came.  No one is compelled to drink more than is good for him.  If he takes too much, the sin lies at his own door.”

“If you talked for ever, Mr. Birtwell,” was answered nothing you might say could possibly change my feelings or sentiments.  I know we are responsible both to God and to society for the stumbling-blocks we set in the way of others.  For a long time, as you know, I have felt this in regard to our social wine-drinking customs; and if I could have had my way, there would have been one large party of the season at which neither man nor woman could taste wine.”

“I know,” replied Mr. Birtwell.  “But I didn’t choose to make myself a laughing-stock.  If we are in society, we must do as society does.  Individuals are not responsible for social usages.  They take things as they find them, going with the current, and leaving society to settle for itself its code of laws and customs.  If we don’t like these laws and customs, we are free to drift out of the current.  But to set ourselves against them is a weakness and a folly.”