The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1885-05-06
THE SON OF MY FRIEND.-A TRUE TALE

THE SON OF MY FRIEND.-A TRUE TALE.
Continued from last week.
AT last word came that all was ready In
the supper room. The hour was eleven.
Our guests passed in to where smoking
viands, rich confectionery, and exhilara-
ting draughts awaited them. We had
prepared liberal entertainment, a costly
feast of all available delicacies. Almost
the first sound that greeted my ears after
entering the supper room was the "pop"
of champagne cork. I looked in the
direction from whence it came, and saw
bottle in the hands of Alfred Denemar.
A little back from the young man stood
his mother. Our eyes met. Oh the
pain and reproach in the glance of my
friend could not bear it, but turned
my face away.
neither ate nor drank anything. The
most tempting dish had no allurement for
my palate, and | shivered at the thought
of tasting wine. | was strangely and un-
naturally disturbed, yet forced to COM
mand myself, and affable and smiling to
our guests.
"Observe Mrs. Gordon heard a
lady near me say in low voice to her
companion.
"What of her? was returned.
"Follow the direction of her eyes. -
did so, as we'll as the ladies near me,
and saw that Mrs. Gordon was looking
anxiously at one of her sons, who was
filling his glass for, it might be, the
second or third time.
at is no place for that young man."
one of them remarked, II pity his mother.
Tom is fine fellow at heart, and has
bright mind but he is falling into habits
that will, fear, destroy him. think he
has too much self respect to visit bar
rooms frequently, but an occasion like
this gives him a liberty that is freely
used to his hurt. It is all very respecta-
BILE, and the best people set an example
he is too ready to follow"
l heard no more, but that was quite
enough to give my nerves a new shock,
and fill my heart with new disquietude.
A few minutes afterwards, | found my
self at the side of Mrs. Gordon. To a re-
mark that made, she answered in an alb
sent kind of way, as though the meaning
of what said did not reach her thoughts.
She looked past me l followed her eyes
with mine, and saw her youngest boy,
not yet eighteen, with glass of cham
payne to his lips. He was drinking with
too apparent sense of enjoyment. The
sigh that passed the mothers lips smote
my ears with accusation.
"Mrs. Carleton y A frank, CHEEKY
voice dropped into my ear. 1t was that
of Alfred Denemar, the son of my friend.
He was handsome, and had free win
ming manner. / saw, by the flush in his
cheeks and the CLEAN in his eyes, that
wine had already quckened the flow of
blood in his veins.
"You are enjoying yourself" I said.
ooh splendidly y Then, bending to
my ear, he added, you've given the
finest entertainment of the season."
"Hush = whispered, raising my fin
ger then added, in warning tone:
ENJOY it in moderation, Alfred"
His brow knit slightly. The crowd
parted us, and we did not meet again dur
ing the evening.
By twelve o'clock, most of the ladies
had withdrawn from the supper room,
but the enticement of wine held too many
of the men there, young and old. Bursts
of coarse laughter, loud EXPLANATIONS,
and snatches of song rang out from the
company in strange confusion. 1t was
difficult to realize that the actors in this
scene of revelry were gentlemen and gen.
temen's sons so-called, and not the coarse
frequenters of a corner tavern.
Guests now began to withdraw quietly.
1t was about half-past twelve when Mrs.
Martindale came down from the dressing
room with her daughter, and joined Mr..
Martindale In the hall, where he had been
waiting for them.
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