“Has Mrs. Sandford engaged her?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Ethel is scarcely more than a child.  Deeply as Mrs. Sandford feels for her, she cannot give her a place of so much responsibility.  And besides, she does not think it right to let her remain where she is.  The influence upon her life and character cannot be good, to say nothing of the tax and burden far beyond her strength that she will have to bear.”

“Does she propose anything?”

“Yes.  To save the children and let the father go to destruction.”

“She would take them away from him?”

“Yes, thus cutting the last strand of the cord that held him away from utter ruin.”

A groan that could not be repressed broke from Mr. Elliott’s lips.

This must not be—­at least not now,” added Mrs. Birtwell, in a firm voice.  “It may be possible to save him through his home and children.  But if separated from them and cast wholly adrift, what hope is left?”

“None, I fear,” replied Mr. Elliott.

“Then on this last hope will I build my faith and work for his rescue,” said Mrs. Birtwell, with a solemn determination; “and may I count on your help?”

“To the uttermost in my power.”  There was nothing half-hearted in Mr. Elliott’s reply.  He meant to do all that his answer involved.

“Ah!” remarked Mrs. Birtwell as they talked still farther about the unhappy case, “how much easier is prevention than cure!  How much easier to keep a stumbling-block out of another’s way than to set him on his feet after he has fallen!  Oh, this curse of drink!”

“A fearful one indeed,” said Mr. Elliott, “and one that is desolating thousands of homes all over the land.”

“And yet,” replied Mrs. Birtwell, with a bitterness of tone she could not repress, “you and I and some of our best citizens and church people, instead of trying to free the land from this dreadful curse, strike hands with those who are engaged in spreading broadcast through society its baleful infection.”

Mr. Elliott dropped his eyes to the floor like one who felt the truth of a stinging accusation, and remained silent.  His mind was in great confusion.  Never before had his own responsibility for this great evil looked him in the face with such a stern aspect and with such rebuking eyes.

“By example and invitation—­nay, by almost irresistible enticements,” continued Mrs. Birtwell—­“we tempt the weak and lure the unwary and break down the lines of moderation that prudence sets up to limit appetite.  I need not describe to you some of our social saturnalias.  I use strong language, for I cannot help it.  We are all too apt to look on their pleasant side, on the gayety, good cheer and bright reunions by which they are attended, and to excuse the excesses that too often manifest themselves.  We do not see as we should beyond the present, and ask ourselves what in natural result is going to be the outcome of all this.  We actually shut our eyes and turn ourselves away from the warning signs and stern admonitions that are uplifted before us.