He is made of different stuff--it's not in his blood and couldn't be.

Whatever else he may become he will never be a sot.

Let him have his fling: once a Rutter, always a Rutter," and then, with a ring in his voice, "when my son ceases to be a gentleman, St.George, I will show him the door, but drink will never do it." Dr.Teackle had also been on the alert.

He was a young physician just coming into practice, many of the younger set being his patients, and he often acted as a curb when they broke loose.

He, with St.George's whispered caution in his ears, had also tried to frame a word of protest to the colonel, suggesting in the mildest way that that particular bowl of apple toddy be not replenished--but the Lord of the Manor had silenced him with a withering glance before he had completed his sentence.