That evening when it was dusk the Squire came into the dining-room, having been shuffling about the grand sweep before the house for a quarter of an hour. The day was cold and the wind bleak, but still he would go out, and Kate had wrapped him up carefully in mufflers and great-coats. Now he came in to what he called dinner, and Kate sat down with him. He had drank no wine that day, although she had brought it to him twice during the morning. Now he attempted to swallow a little soup, but failed; and after that, while Kate was eating her bit of chicken, had the decanter put before him. "I can't eat, and I suppose it won't hurt you if I take my wine at once," he said. It went against the grain with him, even yet, that he could not wait till the cloth was gone from the table, but his impatience for the only sustenance that he could take was too much for him.
"But you should eat something, sir; will you have a bit of toast to sop in your wine?"

That evening at dusk the Squire came into the dining-room, after shuffling about the drive outside for a quarter of an hour. The day was cold and the wind bleak, but still he would go out, and Kate had wrapped him up carefully in mufflers and great-coats. Now he came in to dinner, and Kate sat down with him. He attempted to swallow a little soup, but failed; and had the decanter put before him.
"I can't eat, so I will take my wine at once," he said.
"But you should eat something, sir; will you have a bit of toast to sop in your wine?"
