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. In the end it biteth like a
serpent and stingeth like an adder."

Her closing sentence cut like a knife, and Mr. Elliott felt the sharp
edge.

"He fell," resumed Mrs. Birtwell, "but the hurt was not with him alone.
His wife died on the next day, and it has been said that the condition
in which he came home from our house gave her a shock that killed her."

Mrs. Birtwell shivered.

"People say a great many things," returned Mr. Elliott, "and this, I
doubt not is greatly exaggerated. Have you asked Doctor Hillhouse in
regard to the facts in the case? He attended Mrs. Ridley, I think."

"No. I've been afraid to ask him."

"It might relieve your mind."

"Do you think I would feel any better if he said yea instead of nay?
No, Mr. Elliott. I am afraid to question him."

"It's a sad affair," remarked the clergyman, gloomily, "and I don't see
what is to be done about a it. When a man falls as low as Mr. Ridley
has fallen, the case seems hopeless."

"Don't say hopeless, Mr. Elliott." responded Mrs. Birtwell, her voice
still more troubled. "Until a man is dead he is not wholly lost. The
hand of God is not stayed, and he can save to the uttermost."

"All who come unto him," added the clergyman, in a depressed voice that
had in it the knell of a human soul. "But these besotted men will not go
to him. I am helpless and in despair of salvation, when I stand face to
face with a confirmed drunkard. All one's care and thought and effort
seem wasted, You lift them up to-day, and they fall to-morrow. Good
resolutions, solemn promises, written pledges, go for nothing. They
seem to have fallen below the sphere in which God's saving power
operates."

"No, no, no, Mr. Elliott. I cannot, I will not, believe it," was the
strongly-uttered reply of Mrs. Birtwell. "I do not believe that any man
can fall below this potent sphere."

A deep, sigh came from the clergyman's lips, a dreary expression crept
into his face. There was a heavy weight upon his heart, and he felt
weak and depressed.

"Something must be done." There was the impulse of a strong resolve in
Mrs. Birtwell's tones.

"God works by human agencies. If we hold back and let our hands lie
idle, he canno