As time wore on Doctor Hillhouse grew more and more undecided. No matter how grave or difficult an operation might be, he had always, when satisfied of its necessity, gone forward, looking neither to the right nor to the left. But so troubled and uncertain did he become as the necessity for fixing an early day for the removal of this tumor became more and more apparent that he at last referred the whole matter to Mr. Carlton, and proposed that Doctor Kline, whose high reputation for surgical skill he knew, should be entrusted with the operation. To this he received an emphatic "No!"
"All the profession award him the highest skill in our city, if not the whole country," said Doctor Hillhouse.
"I have no doubt of his skill," replied Mr. Carlton. "But—"
"What?" asked the doctor, as Mr. Carlton hesitated. "Are you not aware that he uses wine too freely?"
Doctor Hillhouse was taken by surprise at this intimation.
"No, I am not aware of anything of the kind," he replied, almost indignantly. "He is not a teetotaller, of course, any more than you or I. Socially and at dinner he takes his glass of wine, as we do. But to say that he uses liquor too freely is, I am sure, a mistake."
"Some men, as you know, doctor, cannot use wine without a steady increase of the appetite until it finally gets the mastery, and I am afraid Doctor Kline is one of them."
"I am greatly astonished to hear you say this," replied Dr. Hillhouse, "and I cannot but hold you mistaken."
"Have you ever met him at a public dinner, at the club or at a private entertainment where there was plenty of wine?"
"Oh yes."