“Yes.”
“You are going to take him wine?”
“Yes. It is only hospitable to offer him some refreshment.”
Mrs. Carleton stood with her eyes resting on the floor for some moments, in a thoughtful attitude.
“I rather think, Rose,” said she, as she lifted her eyes to her daughter’s face, “that it would be as well not to hand him wine.”
“Why, mother?” inquired Rose, looking curious.
“We know nothing of the young man’s previous life and habits.”
“Why do you say that, mother?” asked Rose, who did not comprehend the meaning of what had been uttered.
“He may have been intemperate.”
“Mother! How can you imagine such a thing?”