Friends who only half suspected the truth wondered that Time was so aggressive, taking the flash and merriment out of her beautiful eyes, the color and fullness from her cheeks, the smiles from her lips and the glossy, blackness from her hair.
"Mrs.Abercrombie is such a wreck," one would say on meeting her after a few years.

"I would hardly have known her; and she doesn't look at all happy." "I wonder if the general drinks as hard as ever ?" would in all probability be replied to this remark, followed by the response: "I was not aware that he was a hard drinker.

He doesn't look like it." "No, you would not suspect so much; but I am sorry to say that he has very little control over his appetite." At which a stronger surprise would be expressed.
General Abercrombie was fifty years old, a large, handsome and agreeable man, and a favorite with his brother officers, who deeply regretted his weakness.

As an officer his drinking habits rarely interfered with his duty.

Somehow the discipline of the army had gained such a power over him as to hold him repressed and subordinate to its influence.