“Have you ever met him at a public dinner, at the club or at a private entertainment where there was plenty of wine?”

“Oh yes.”

“And observed no unusual exhilaration?”

Dr. Hillhouse became reflective.  Now that his attention was called to the matter, some doubts began to intrude themselves.

“We cannot always judge the common life by what we see on convivial occasions,” he made answer.  “One may take wine freely with his friends and be as abstemious as an anchorite during business-or profession-hours.”

“Not at all probable,” replied Mr. Carlton, “and not good in my observation.  The appetite that leads a man into drinking more when among friends than his brain will carry steadily is not likely to sleep when he is alone.  Any over-stimulation, as you know, doctor, leaves in the depressed state that follows a craving for renewed exhilaration.  I am very sure that on the morning after one of the occasions to which I have referred Doctor Kline finds himself in no condition for the work of a delicate surgical operation until he has steadied his relaxed nerves with more than a single glass.”

He paused for a moment, and then said, with strong emphasis: 

“The hand, Doctor Hillhouse, that cuts down into her dear flesh must be steadied by healthy nerves, and not by wine or brandy.  No, sir; I will not hear to it.  I will not have Doctor Kline.  In your hands, and yours alone, I trust my wife in this great extremity.”

“That is for you to decide,” returned Dr. Hillhouse.  “I felt it to be only right to give you an opportunity to avail of Doctor Kline’s acknowledged skill.  I am sure you can do so safely.”

But Mr. Carlton was very emphatic in his rejection of Dr. Kline.

“I may be a little peculiar,” he said, “but do you know I never trust any important interest with a man who drinks habitually?—­one of your temperate drinkers, I mean, who can take his three or four glasses of wine at dinner, or twice that number, during an evening while playing at whist, but who never debases himself by so low a thing as intoxication.”

“Are not you a little peculiar, or, I might say, over-nice, in this?” remarked Doctor Hillhouse.

“No, I am only prudent.  Let me give you a fact in my own experience.  I had a law-suit several years ago involving many thousands of dollars.  My case was good, but some nice points of law were involved, and I needed for success the best talent the bar afforded.  A Mr. B——­, I will call him, stood very high in the profession, and I chose him for my counsel.  He was a man of fine social qualities, and admirable for his after-dinner speeches.  You always met him on public occasions.  He was one of your good temperate drinkers and not afraid of a glass of wine, or even brandy, and rarely, if ever, refused a friend who asked him to drink.

“He was not an intemperate man, of course.  No one dreamed of setting him over among that banned and rejected class of men whom few trust, and against whom all are on guard.  He held his place of honor and confidence side by side with the most trusted men in his profession.  As a lawyer, interests of vast magnitude were often in his hands, and largely depended on his legal sagacity, clearness of thought and sleepless vigilance.  He was usually successful in his cases.