“Is it any matter of surprise, Mr. Elliott, that we should be confronted now and then with some of the dreadful consequences that flow inevitably from the causes to which I refer? or that as individual participants in these things we should find ourselves involved in such direct personal responsibility as to make us actually shudder?”

Mrs. Birtwell did not know how keen an edge these sentences had for Mr. Elliott, nor how, deeply they cut.  As for the clergyman, he kept his own counsel.

“What can we do in this sad case?” he asked, after a few assenting remarks on the dangers of social drinking.  This is the great question now.  I confess to being entirely at a loss.  I never felt so helpless in the presence of any duty before.”

“I suppose,” replied Mrs. Birtwell, “that the way to a knowledge of our whole duty in any came is to begin to do the first thing that we see to be right.”

“Granted; and what then?  Do you see the first right thing to be done?”

“I believe so.”

“What is it?”

“If, as seems plain, the separation of Mr. Ridley from his home and children is to cut the last strand of the cord that holds him away from destruction, then our first work, if we would save him, is to help his daughter to maintain that home.”

“Then you would sacrifice the child for the sake of the father?”

“No; I would help the child to save her father.  I would help her to keep their little home as pleasant and attractive as possible, and see that in doing so she did not work beyond her strength.  This first.”

“And what next?” asked Mr. Elliott.

“After I have done so much, I will trust God to show me what next.  The path of duty is plain so far.  If I enter it in faith and trust and walk whither it leads, I am sure that other ways, leading higher and to regions of safety, will open for my willing feet.”

“God grant that it may be so,” exclaimed Mr. Elliott, with a fervor that showed how deeply he was interested.  “I believe you are right.  The slender mooring that holds this wretched man to the shore must not be cut or broken.  Sever that, and he is swept, I fear, to hopeless ruin.  You will see his daughter?”

“Yes.  It is all plain now.  I will go to her at once.  I will be her fast friend.  I will let my heart go out to her as if she were my own child.  I will help her to keep the home her tender and loving heart is trying to maintain.”

Mrs. Birtwell now spoke with an eager enthusiasm that sent the warm color to her cheeks and made her eyes, so heavy and sorrowful a little while before, bright and full of hope.

On rising to go, Mr. Elliott urged her to do all in her power to save the wretched man who had fallen over the stumbling-block their hands had laid in his way, promising on his part all possible co-operation.

CHAPTER XXII.