‘Such an exciting life as yours must really require a little stimulus; let me give you half a glass,’ said the Vicar.
‘Not a drop, thank you.’
‘Then you have taken the pledge?’
‘Oh no!’ said the lady, laughing; ‘I am not so bad as to require that. I am never tempted to drink. If I thought it would do me any good, I would take a glass of wine; but I find I am better without it, and so I don’t.’
‘What, then, will you take?’
‘A cup of tea.’
‘A cup of tea—how provoking! That’s about the only thing we can’t give you here.’
‘Well, then, I will put up with a glass of water and a sandwich.’
The Mayor was shocked; he had never heard such a request from a lady before. In his distress he appealed to the Vicar for aid. His reverence was equal to the occasion, actually going so far as to quote St. Paul, and to tell how he recommended Timothy to take a glass of wine for his stomach’s sake and his often infirmities. His reverence did more: he enforced his argument by example, taking a glass himself, and at the same time recommending the rest of the committee to do the same. ‘Fine port that,’ said he, smacking his lips and holding up the glass to the light to see the beeswing.
‘Yes,’ said the Mayor; ‘it was a present to the Corporation from Sir Watkin Strahan.’