When Mr. Eldridge came home at dinner-time, his wife said to him,—
“You needn’t order any liquors from Snyder.”
“Why not?” Mr. Eldridge looked at his wife with some surprise.
“I’m going to have coffee, instead of wine, and brandy,” said Mrs. Eldridge, speaking firmly.
“Nonsense!” You’re jesting.”
“No, I’m in earnest. These liquors are not only expensive, but dangerous things to offer freely in mixed companies. Many boys get their first taste for drink at fashionable parties, and many reformed men have the old fiery thirst revived by a glass of wine poured out for them in social hospitality. I am afraid to have my conscience burdened with the responsibility which this involves.”
“There is no question as to the injury that is done by this free pouring out of liquors at our fashionable entertainments. I’ve long enough seen that,” said Mr. Eldridge; “but she will be a bold lady who ventures to offer a cup of coffee in place of a glass of wine. You had better think twice on this subject before you act once.”
“I’ve done little else I but think about it for the last two hours, and the more I think about it the more settled my purpose becomes.”
“But what put this thing into your head?” inquired Mr. Eldridge. “You were in full sail for party this morning, liquor and all; this sudden tacking for a new course is a little surprising. I’m puzzled.”
“Your son put it into my head,” replied Mrs. Eldridge.
“Henry? Well, that boy does beat all!” Mr. Eldridge did not speak with disapprobation, but with a tone of pleasure in his voice. “And so he proposed that we should have coffee instead of wine and brandy?”