_General Wyatt._--"Sir, you must pardon us, and have the great goodness to be patient. You have a right to feel yourself aggrieved by what has happened, but no wrong is meant,--no offence. You must be so kind as to go away. I will make you all the needed apologies and explanations." He stoops over his daughter, as Bartlett, in a sort of daze, rises from his knees and retires a few steps. "I beg your pardon, sir,"--addressing himself to Cummings,--"will you help me a moment?" Cummings, with delicate sympathy and tenderness, lifts the arms of the insensible girl to her father's neck, and assists the General to rise with his burden. "Thanks! She's hardly heavier, poor child, than a ghost." The tears stand in his eyes, as he gathers her closer to him and kisses her wan cheek. "Sir,"--as he moves away he speaks to Bartlett,--"do me the favour to remain here till I can return to offer you reparation." He makes a stately effort to bow to Bartlett in leaving the room, while his wife, who follows with the young lady's hat and shawl, looks back at the painter with open abhorrence. IV. BARTLETT _and_ CUMMINGS. _Bartlett_, turning to his friend from the retreating group on which he has kept his eyes steadfastly fixed.--"Where are their keepers?" He is pale with suppressed rage. _Cummings._--"Their keepers?" _Bartlett_, savagely.--"Yes! Have they escaped from them, or is it one of the new ideas to let lunatics go about the country alone? If that old fool hadn't dropped his stick, I'd have knocked him over that table in another instant. And that other old maniac,--what did she mean by pushing me back in that way? How do you account for this thing, Cummings? What do you make of it?" _Cummings._--"I don't know, upon my word. There seems to be some mystery,--some painful mystery. But the gentleman will be back directly, I suppose, and"-- _Bartlett_, crushing his hat over his eyes.--"I'll leave you to receive him and his mystery. I've had enough of both." He moves toward the door. _Cummings_, detaining him.--"Bartlett, you're surely not going away?" _Bartlett._--"Yes, I am!" _Cummings._--"But he'll be here in a moment. He said he would come back and satisfy the claim which you certainly have to an explanation." _Bartlett_, furiously.--"Claim? I've a perfect Alabama Claim to an explanation. He can't satisfy it; he shall not try. It's a little too much to expect me to be satisfied with anything he can say after what's passed. Get out of the way, Cummings, or I'll put you on top of the piano."