"What home?" asked Mr. Ridley, turning quickly upon her.
She did not answer him. She feared to say a "Home for inebriates,"
lest he should break from them in anger.
"What home?" he repeated, in a stronger and more agitated voice; and
now both Mr. Elliott and Mrs. Birtwell saw a wild eagerness in his
manner.
"A home," replied Mr. Elliott, "where men like you can go and
receive help and sympathy. A home where you will find men of large
and hopeful nature to take you by the hand and hold you up, and
Christian women with hearts full of mother and sister love to
comfort, help, encourage and strengthen all your good desires. A
home in which men in your unhappy condition are made welcome, and in
which they are cared for wisely and tenderly in their greatest
extremity."
"Then take me there, for God's sake!" cried out the wretched man,
extending his hand eagerly as he spoke.
"Order the carriage immediately," said Mrs. Birtwell to the servant
who stood in the half-open parlor door.
Then she drew Mr. Ridley back to the sofa, from which he had started
up a little while before, and said, in a voice full of comfort and
persuasion:
"You shall go there, and I will come and see you every day; and you
needn't have a thought or care for Ethel. All is going to come out
right again."
The carriage came in a few minutes. There was no hesitation on the
part of Mr. Ridley. The excitement of this new hope breaking in so
suddenly upon the midnight of his despair acted as a temporary
stimulant and held his nerves steady for a little while longer.
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