"It is silly for you to talk in that way," replied the husband, with
much impatience. "He isn't rendered more liable to the disease by
taking a little pure brandy, for he says that it keeps him perfectly
well."

"A glass of brandy every day may have been his usual custom," urged
Mrs. Hobart. "In that case, in its continuance, no change was
produced. But your system has been untouched by the fiery liquid for
nearly five years, and its sudden introduction must create
disturbance. It is reasonable."

"The doctor ought to know best," was replied to this. "He has
prescribed it, and I must take it. Life is too serious a matter to
be trifled with. 'An ounce of preventive is worth a pound of cure,'
you know."

"I am in equal danger with yourself," said Mrs. Hobart; "and so are
the children."

"Undoubtedly. And I wish you all to use a little brandy."

"Not a drop of the poison shall pass either my lips or those of the
children," replied Mrs. Hobart, with emphasis.

"As you please," said the husband, coldly, and turned away.

"Edward!" Mrs. Hobart laid her hand upon his arm. "Edward! Let me
beg of you not to follow this advice."