Moreover, in addition to a certain lack of foresight and frugal prudence, bred by army life and Southern open-heartedness, he cherished a secret habit which rendered a wise, steadily maintained policy of thrift wellnigh impossible.  About two years before the opening of our story he had been the victim of a painful disease, the evil effects of which did not speedily pass away.  For several weeks of this period, to quiet the pain, he was given morphia powders; their effects were so agreeable that they were not discontinued after the physician ceased to prescribe them.  The subtle stimulant not only banished the lingering traces of suffering, but enabled him to resume the routine of business with comparative ease much sooner than he had expected.  Thus he gradually drifted into the habitual use of morphia, taking it as a panacea for every ill.  Had he a toothache, a rheumatic or neuralgic twinge, the drug quieted the pain.  Was he despondent from any cause, or annoyed by some untoward event, a small white powder soon brought hopefulness and serenity.  When emergencies occurred which promised to tax his mental and physical powers, opium appeared to give a clearness and elasticity of mind and a bodily vigor that was almost magical, and he availed himself of the deceptive potency more and more often.

The morbid craving which the drug inevitably engenders at last demanded a daily supply.  For months he employed it in moderate quantities, using it as thousands do quinine, wine, or other stimulants, without giving much thought to the matter, sincerely intending, however, to shake off the habit as soon as he felt a little stronger and was more free from business cares.  Still, as the employment of the stimulant grew into a habit, he became somewhat ashamed of it, and maintained his indulgence with increasing secrecy—­a characteristic rarely absent from this vice.

Thus it can be understood that his mind had ceased to possess the natural poise which would enable him to manage his affairs in accordance with some wisely matured system of expenditure.  In times of depression he would demand the most rigid economy, and again he would seem careless and indifferent and preoccupied.  This financial vacillation was precisely what his wife had been accustomed to in her early home, and she thoughtlessly took her way without much regard to it.  He also had little power of saying No to his gentle wife, and an appealing look from her blue eyes would settle every question of economy the wrong way.  Next year they would be more prudent; at present, however, there were some things that it would be very nice to have or to do.

But, alas, Mrs. Jocelyn had decided that, for Mildred’s sake, the coming summer must be spent at Saratoga.  In vain her husband had told her that he did not see how it was possible.  She would reply,

“Now, Martin, be reasonable.  You know Mr. Arnold spends his summers there.  Would you spoil Millie’s chances of making one of the best matches in the city?”