Six months later, Judge McNair and his wife were dining at the Wynn mansion. Mrs. Wynn had exquisite taste, and also plenty of money at her command: consequently the finishing and furnishing of that dining room was a rare combination of beauty and comfort. The hangings were of the palest of green tints, the carpet wonderfully like the rich moss into which our feet sink in our summer rambles, the pictures few and appropriate, the chairs of a graceful pattern; flowers filled one window with colour and the room with delicate fragrance, while an open fire at the farther end dispelled the chill and gloom of a November day. The table appointments were perfect, and the cook had done her part well.
There was no extra display—the daughter of the house had come to spend the day with her mother, and the judge had been invited to an informal dinner. No doubt they ought to have been very bright and happy, all of them. Mabel and her mother had passed a very cheery morning, and Judge McNair came in smiling and genial as ever; but the host wore a vexed and pained expression, which did not altogether pass off as the dinner progressed. When they came to the wine, which, as usual, Mabel and her husband declined, Mr. Wynn said—
"I believe you are right, judge. If I had a boy, I'd do the same."
"But, father," said Mabel, "you have young men in your employ."
"I'm not responsible for my clerks' habits," Mr. Wynn returned; "and, besides, they don't sit at my table."
"I have no doubt but that they perfectly understand your views and practices on the temperance question, though they never saw you take a glass of wine; but, father, it seems to me that you are to a certain degree responsible for them."
"I hope not," he answered quickly. "I don't want to be held responsible for Perry Morse's dishonesty, which has just come to light. I declare I don't know when I have been so sorry for anybody as for Mr. Morse; but I couldn't help it, I had to discharge him."
"Why, Mabel!" said Mrs. Wynn. "He was one of your famous boys, wasn't he?"
"Yes," replied Mabel sadly.
"Humph! I wonder you didn't instil in him some of the first principles of honour," growled Mr. Wynn.