“I’m quite well, thank you, papa; but I’d rather have the water.”
“Well, put some port wine in it, at any rate, if you don’t fancy the beer to-day.”
“I’d rather have neither beer nor wine, thank you, papa.”
By this time Lady Oldfield’s attention was drawn to what was passing between her husband and son.
“Dear Frank,” she said, “I shall not allow you to do anything so foolish as to drink water. James, hand the beer again to Master Frank.”
“Indeed, dear mamma,” he urged, “I mean what I say; I really should rather have water.”
“Absurd!” exclaimed her ladyship angrily; “what folly has possessed you now? You know that the medical men all say that wine and beer are necessary for your health.”
“I’m sure, mamma, the medical men needn’t trouble themselves about my health. I’m always very well when I have plenty of air and exercise. If ever I feel unwell, it is when I’ve had more wine or beer than usual.”
“And who, pray, has been putting these foolish notions into your head? I see how it is; I always feared it; the Oliphants have been filling your head with their extravagant notions about total abstinence. Really, my dear,” she added, turning to Sir Thomas, “we must forbid Frank’s going to the rectory, if they are to make our own child fly in the face of our wishes.”
“Mamma,” cried Frank, all on fire with excitement and indignation, “you’re quite mistaken about the Oliphants; they have none of them been trying to talk me over to their own views. I began the subject myself, and asked Mr Oliphant’s advice, and he told me expressly that I ought not to do what you would disapprove of.”