It is better for her
to die, if needs be, than to live a drunkard."
"A drunkard!" echoed Mrs. Bolton. "I am sure I never used such a word
about Sophy. I cannot believe it possible that my nephew's wife, a
clergyman's wife, could become a drunkard, like a woman of the lowest
classes! And I cannot understand how you, a clergyman, could seriously
propose so extraordinary a step. Why, there is no danger to me; nobody
could ever suspect me of being fond of wine. I have taken it in
moderation all my life, and I cannot believe it is my duty to give it up
altogether at my age."
"Very possibly it has never been your duty before," answered Mr. Warden,
"and now I urge it, not for your own sake, but for hers. She has fallen
into the snare blindfolded, and you can extricate her, though at some
cost to yourself. I feel persuaded you can induce her to abstain, if you
will do so yourself. You call yourself a Christian--"
"I should think there can be no doubt about that," she interrupted,
indignantly; "the archdeacon never expressed any doubt about it, and
surely I may depend upon his judgment.
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