"
"Yes," he replied, in a husky whisper. But he rallied himself with
an effort and asked, "What of him?" in a clear and steady voice.
"Mr. Ridley had been intemperate before coming to the city, but
after settling here he kept himself free from his old bad habits,
and was fast regaining the high position he had lost. I met his wife
a number of times. She was a very superior woman; and the more I saw
of her, the more I was drawn to her. We sent them cards for our
party last winter. Mrs. Ridley was sick and could not come. Mr.
Ridley came, and--and--" Mrs. Birtwell lost her voice for a moment,
then added: "You know what I would say. We put the cup to his lips,
we tempted him with wine, and he fell."
Mrs. Birtwell covered her face with her hands. A few strong sobs
shook her frame.
"He fell," she added as soon as she could recover herself," and
still lies, prostrate and helpless, in the grasp of a cruel enemy
into whose power we betrayed him."
"But you did it ignorantly," said Mr. Elliott.
"There was no intention on your part to betray him. You did not know
that your friend was his deadly foe."
"My friend?" queried Mrs. Birtwell. She did not take his meaning.
"The wine, I mean. While to you and me it may be only a pleasant and
cheery friend, to one like Mr. Ridley it may be the deadliest of
enemies."
"An enemy to most people, I fear," returned Mrs. Birtwell, "and the
more dangerous because a hidden foe.
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