."

"What are phosphates?"

"Oh, there are so many of them, you know. There is quinine, of course,
and magnesium, and--and so on. Let me fill your glass."

She took one very little sip. "It isn't what I should call a pleasant
wine," she said. "It stings so."

"Ah!" I said, "that's the phosphates. It would be a little like that.
But that's not the way to judge a port. What you should do is to take a
large mouthful and roll it round the tongue,--then you get the aroma.
Look: this is the way."

I took a large mouthful.

When I had stopped coughing I said that I didn't know that there was
anything absolutely wrong with the wine, but you wanted to be ready for
it. It had come on me rather unexpectedly.

Eliza said that very likely that was it, and she asked me if I would
care to finish my glass now that I knew what it was like.

I said that it was not quite a fair test to try a port just after it
had been shaken about. I would let the bottle stand for a day or two.
Ultimately I took what was left in Eliza's glass and my own, and
emptied it into the garden. I did this because I did not want our
general servant to try it when she cleared away, and possibly acquire a
taste for drink.

Next morning I found that two of our best geraniums had died during the
night. I said that it was most inexplicable. Eliza said nothing.

* * * * *

A few nights afterward, Eliza asked me if I thought that the tonic port
had stood long enough.

"Yes," I said; "I will decant it for you, and then if Miss Sakers calls
you might say carelessly that you were just going to have a glass of
port, and would be glad if she would join you."

"No, thank you," she said; "I don't want to deceive Miss Sakers."

"You could mention that it was rich in phosphates. There need be no
deception about it."

"Well, then, I don't want to lose the few friends we've got."

"As you please, Eliza. It seems a pity to waste more than half a bottle
of good wine."

"Bottle of what?"

"You heard what I said."

"Well, drink it yourself, if you like it."

* * * * *

Some weeks afterward I found the bottle of Tarret's Tonic Port still
standing in the sideboard. I gave it to our servant, explaining to her
that it would be best mixed with water. There was still the risk of her
acquiring drinking habits, but I could think of no one else to give it
to. That night Eliza found the