I took a large mouthful.
When I had stopped coughing I said that I didn't know that there was anything absolutely wrong with the wine, but you wanted to be ready for it. It had come on me rather unexpectedly.
Eliza said that very likely that was it, and she asked me if I would care to finish my glass now that I knew what it was like.
I said that it was not quite a fair test to try a port just after it had been shaken about. I would let the bottle stand for a day or two. Ultimately I took what was left in Eliza's glass and my own, and emptied it into the garden. I did this because I did not want our general servant to try it when she cleared away, and possibly acquire a taste for drink.
Next morning I found that two of our best geraniums had died during the night. I said that it was most inexplicable. Eliza said nothing.
A few nights afterward, Eliza asked me if I thought that the tonic port had stood long enough.
"Yes," I said; "I will decant it for you, and then if Miss Sakers calls you might say carelessly that you were just going to have a glass of port, and would be glad if she would join you."
"No, thank you," she said; "I don't want to deceive Miss Sakers."
"You could mention that it was rich in phosphates. There need be no deception about it."