“You are as well off without it—nay, better. I noticed you merely sipped the whisky at the place we just left.”
“Yes; I knew your object in ordering it, and did not want to arouse Peter’s suspicions, or I would not even have done that.”
“So I supposed. I approve of your moderation. I do not myself drink whisky, and indeed very little wine. Drink has no temptation for me. I wish I could say as much for Victor. I presume, however, if you were in his place, you would do the same.”
“You are quite mistaken, Mr. Wentworth,” said Gerald indignantly.
“Well, perhaps so, but you can’t tell, for you have never been tried.”
“I have never been tried, but I hate liquor of all kinds, and drunkenness still more. The sight of Jake Amsden just now is enough to sicken any one.”
“True, he makes a beast of himself. I am not afraid Victor will ever sink to his level; but I should be glad if he would abstain from drinking altogether.”
Bradley Wentworth rose from his recumbent position.
“Shall we take a walk?” he said.
“I would do so, but I don’t like to leave my father alone.”