been accustomed to anything of the sort. Please not, sir."
"Fudge!" said Uncle Zachie, holding up a glass and pouring cherry-brandy into it. "What is your age!—seventeen or eighteen, and I am fifty-two. I have over thirty years' more experience of the world than you. Jamie, don't be tied to your sister's apron-string. I know what is best for you. Girls drink water, men something better. Come here, Jamie!"
"No, sir—I beseech you."
"Bless my soul! I know what is good for him. Come to me, Jamie. Look the other way, Judith, if I cannot persuade you."
Judith sighed, and covered her face with her hands. There was to be no help, no support in Uncle Zachie. On the contrary, he would break down her power over Jamie.
"Jamie," she said, "if you love me, go up-stairs."
"Presently, Ju. I want that first." And he took it, ran to his sister, and said:
"It is good, Ju!"
"You have disobeyed me, Jamie—that is bad."
She stood on the threshold of further trouble, and she knew it.
