insane demands made upon me by her despairing husband, all
conspired to break down my unsteady nerves and unfit me for the work I
had to do. When the time came, there was only one desperate expedient
left, and that was the use of a strong stimulant, under the effect of
which I was able to extract the tumor from Mrs. Carlton's neck.

"'Alas for the too temporary support of my stimulant! It failed me at
the last moment. My sight was not clear nor my hand steady as I tied
the small arteries which had been cut during the operation. One of
these, ligated imperfectly, commenced bleeding soon after I left the
house. A hurried summons reached me almost immediately on my return
home, and before I had steadied my exhausted nerves with a glass of
wine. Hurrying back, I found the wound bleeding freely. Prompt
treatment was required. Ether was again administered. But you know the
rest, Mr. Elliott. It is all too dreadful, and I cannot go over it
again. Mrs. Carlton fell another victim to excess in wine. This is the
true story. I was not blamed by the husband. The real cause of the
great calamity that fell upon him he does not know to this day, and I
trust will never know. But I have not since been able to look steadily
into his dreary eyes. A guilty sense of wrong oppresses me whenever I
come near him. As I said before, this thing is breaking me down. It has
robbed me, I know, of many years of professional usefulness to which I
had looked forward, and left a bitter thought in my mind and a shadow
on my feelings that can never pass away.

"'Mr. Elliott,' he continued, 'you have a position of sacred trust.
Your influence is large. Set yourself, I pray you, against the evil
which has wrought these great disasters. Set yourself against the
dangerous self-indulgence called "moderate drinking." It is doing far
more injury to society than open drunkenness, more a hundred--nay, a
thousand--fold. If I had been a drunkard, no such catastrophe as this I
have mentioned could have happened in my practice, for Mr. Carlton
would not then have trusted his wife in my hands. My drunkenness would
have stood as a warning against me. But I was a respectable moderate
drinker, and could take my wine without seeming to be in any way
affected by it. But see how it betrayed me at last.'"

Mr. Birtwell had been sitting during this relation with his head bowed
upon his breast. When Mr. Elliott ceased speaking, he raised himself up
in a slow, weary sort of w