“It's nat'ral,” he said, “an' it's right. I wouldn't want it no other way. An' you mustn't mind, Esmeraldy, it's bein' kinder rough on me, as can't go back on mother, havin' swore to cherish her till death do us part You've allus been a good gal to me, an' we've thought a heap on each other, an' I reckon it can allers be the same way, even though we're sep'rated, fur it's nat'ral you should have chose Wash, an'--an' I wouldn't have it no other way, Esmeraldy. Now I'll go an' have it out with mother.” We were all sufficiently unprepared for the announcement to be startled by it Mademoiselle Esmeralda, who was weeping bitterly, half sprang to her feet. “To-night!” she said. “Oh, father!” “Yes,” he replied; “I've been thinking over it, an' I don't see no other way, an' it may as well be to-night as any other time.” After leaving us he was absent for about an hour. When he returned, there were traces in his appearance of the storm through which he had passed. His hands trembled with agitation; he even looked weakened as he sank into his chair. We regarded him with commiseration. “It's over,” he half whispered, “an' it was even rougher than I thought it would be. She was terrible outed, was mother. I reckon I never see her so outed before. She jest raged and tore. It was most more than I could stand, Esmeraldy,” and he dropped his head upon his hands for support. “Seemed like it was the Markis as laid heaviest upon her,” he proceeded. “She was terrible sot on the Markis, an' every time she think of him, she'd just rear--. she'd just rear. I never stood up agen mother afore, an' I hope I shan't never have it to do again in my time. I'm kinder wore out.” Little by little we learned much of what had passed, though he evidently withheld the most for the sake of Mademoiselle, and it was some time before he broke the news to her that her mother's doors were closed against her. “I think you'll find it pleasanter a-stoppin' here,” he said, “if Mis' Dimar'll board ye until--the time fur startin' home. Her sperrit was so up that she said she didn't aim to see you no more, an' you know how she is, Esmeraldy, when her sperrit's up.” The girl went and clung around his neck, kneeling at his side, and shedding tears. “Oh, father!” she cried, “you've bore a great deal for me; you've bore more than any one knows, and all for me.” He looked rather grave, as he shook his head at the fire. “That's so, Esmeraldy,” he replied; “but we ailers seemed nigh to each other, somehow, and when it come to the wust, I was bound to kinder make a stand fur you, as I couldn't have made fur myself. I couldn't have done it fur myself. Lord, no!” So Mademoiselle remained with us, and Clélie assisted her to prepare her simple outfit, and in the evening the tall young lover came into our apartment and sat looking on, which aspect of affairs, I will confess, was entirely new to Clélie, and yet did not displease her.