But he had no business to let old friends coax him to drink.
Still, Albert was pretty severe.

Too severe, in fact.

I'm sorry for Westcott.

I am, indeed." After some such talk as this, Cousin Isa would generally find Katy crying before bed-time.
"What is the matter, Katy, dear ?" she would say in a voice so full of natural melody and genuine sympathy, that it never failed to move Katy to the depths of her heart.

Then Katy would cry more than ever, and fling her arms about the neck of dear, dear, _dear_ Cousin Isa, and lavish on her the tenderness of which her heart was full.
"O Cousin Isa! what must I do?
I'm breaking poor Smith's heart.