"Do you mean that you have given up drinking wine?"
"I have given it up?" said Philip, smiling at Tom's air, which was almost of consternation.
"Because she don't like it?"
"I hope I would give up a greater thing than that, if she did not like it," said Philip gravely. "This seems to me not a great thing. But the reason you suppose is not my reason."
"If the reason isn't a secret, I wish you'd mention it; Mrs. Caruthers will be asking me in private, by and by; and I do not like her to ask me questions I cannot answer."
"My reason is,—I think it does more harm than good."
"Wine?"
"Wine, and its congeners."
"Take a cup of coffee, Mr. Caruthers," said Lois; "and confess it will do instead of the other thing."
Tom accepted the coffee; I don't think he could have rejected anything she held out to him; but he remarked grumly to Philip, as he took it,—