I have watched
the formation and growth of this habit with a solicitude that has
for a long time robbed my life of its sweetness. All the while I see
him drifting away from me, and I am powerless to hold him back.
Every day he gets farther off, and every day my heart grows heavier
with sorrow. Can nothing be done? Alas! nothing, I fear; and I must
tell you why, Mrs. Birtwell. It is best that you should see the case
as hopeless, and save your daughter if you can."
She paused again for a few moments, and then continued:
"It is not with my son as with most young men. He has something more
to guard against than the ordinary temptations of society. There is,
as you may possibly know, a taint in his blood--the taint of
hereditary intemperance. I warned him of this and implored him to
abjure wine and all other drinks that intoxicate, but he was proud
and sensitive as well as confident in his own strength. He began to
imagine that everybody knew the family secret I had revealed to him,
and that if he refused wine in public it would be attributed to his
fear of arousing a sleeping appetite which when fully awake and
active might prove too strong for him, and so he often drank in a
kind of bravado spirit. He would be a man and let every one see that
he could hold the mastery over himself. It was a dangerous
experiment for him, as I knew it would be, and has failed."
Mrs. Whitford broke down and sobbed in an uncontrollable passion of
grief.
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