"Now," said Priscilla cheerfully, "she wants rum, and I'm just going to buy her some."
"Rum?" cried Lady Shuttleworth in a voice of horror; and Mrs. Morrison started violently.
"Is it bad for her?" said Priscilla, surprised.
"Bad!" cried Lady Shuttleworth.
"It is," said Mrs. Morrison with her eyes on the ground, "poison for both body and soul."
"Dear me," said Priscilla, her face falling. "Why, she said it would comfort her."
"It will poison both her body and her soul," repeated Mrs. Morrison grimly.
"My dear," said Lady Shuttleworth, "our efforts are all directed towards training our people to keep from drinking."
"But she doesn't want to drink," said Priscilla. "She only wants to taste it now and then. I'm afraid she's dying. Mustn't she die happy?"
"It is our duty," said Mrs. Morrison, "to see that our parishioners die sober."