THE HILL OF DREAMS
He remembered the forcible exhibition of the powders when he was a boy, and felt thankful that those days were over. He only grinned at his cousin and swallowed a great cup of strong tea to steady his nerves, which were shaky enough. Mrs. Dixon saw him one day in Caermaen; it was very hot, and he had been walking rather fast. The scars on his body burnt and tingled, and he tottered as he raised his hat to the vicar's wife. She decided without further investigation that he must have been drinking in public-houses.
'It seems a mercy that poor Mrs. Taylor was taken,' she said to her husband. 'She has certainly been spared a great deal. That wretched young man passed me this afternoon; he was quite intoxicated.'
'How very sad,' said Mr. Dixon. 'A little port, my dear?'
'Thank you, Merivale, I will have another glass of sherry. Dr. Burrows is always scolding me and saying I must take something to keep up my energy, and this sherry is so weak.'
The Dixons were not teetotallers. They regretted it deeply, and blamed the doctor, who 'insisted on some stimulant.' However, there
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