"
"Well," said the young man hesitatingly, "not that way. I take a glass of
wine now and then in company, you know--"
"Yes, I know," sighed the girl. "Men are all alike. Mother used to say so.
She said men were different from women. They had to drink. She said they
all did it. Only she said her father never did; but he was very good,
though he had to work hard."
"Indeed," said the young man, his color rising in the moonlight, "indeed,
you make a mistake. I don't drink at all, not that way. I'm not like them.
I--why, I only--well, the fact is, I don't care a red cent about the stuff
anyway; and I don't want you to think I'm like them. If it will do you any
good, I'll never touch it again, not a drop."
He said it earnestly. He was trying to vindicate himself. Just why he
should care to do so he did not know, only that all at once it was very
necessary that he should appear different in the eyes of this girl from,
the other men she had known.
"Will you really?" she asked, turning to look in his face. "Will you
promise that?"
"Why, certainly I will," he said, a trifle embarrassed that she had taken
him at his word. "Of course I will. I tell you it's nothing to me. I only
took a glass at the club occasionally when the other men were drinking,
and sometimes when I went to banquets, class banquets, you know, and
dinners--"
Now the girl had never heard of class banquets, but to take a glass
occasionally when the other men were drinking was what her brothers did;
and so she sighed, and said: "Yes, you may promise, but I know you won't
keep it.
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