Anne Bronte: The Tenant of Wildfell Hall

4. CHAPTER IV (continued)

'I don't take wine, Mrs. Markham,' said Mr. Millward, upon the introduction of that beverage; 'I'll take a little of your home-brewed ale. I always prefer your home-brewed to anything else.'

Flattered at this compliment, my mother rang the bell, and a china jug of our best ale was presently brought and set before the worthy gentleman who so well knew how to appreciate its excellences.

'Now THIS is the thing!' cried he, pouring out a glass of the same in a long stream, skilfully directed from the jug to the tumbler, so as to produce much foam without spilling a drop; and, having surveyed it for a moment opposite the candle, he took a deep draught, and then smacked his lips, drew a long breath, and refilled his glass, my mother looking on with the greatest satisfaction.

'There's nothing like this, Mrs. Markham!' said he. 'I always maintain that there's nothing to compare with your home-brewed ale.'

'I'm sure I'm glad you like it, sir. I always look after the brewing myself, as well as the cheese and the butter - I like to have things well done, while we're about it.'

'Quite right, Mrs. Markham!'

'But then, Mr. Millward, you don't think it wrong to take a little wine now and then - or a little spirits either!' said my mother, as she handed a smoking tumbler of gin-and-water to Mrs. Wilson, who affirmed that wine sat heavy on her stomach, and whose son Robert was at that moment helping himself to a pretty stiff glass of the same.

'By no means!' replied the oracle, with a Jove-like nod; 'these things are all blessings and mercies, if we only knew how to make use of them.'

'But Mrs. Graham doesn't think so. You shall just hear now what she told us the other day - I told her I'd tell you.'