“An old friend of mine? Humph! I should like to see one besides yourself. Nearly all my old friends have become Secessionists, and are no longer friends of mine!” “Ah, but this one hasn’t. He is loyal to the Union, and is very much disturbed in his mind on account of the spread of the Secession spirit through his native State. I am speaking of Mr. Goldsborough, of Richmond,” said the unsuspicious old man. “Goldsborough! One of the rip-stavingest Secessionists in the State—one of the moving spirits of secession!—a leader among them!” exclaimed Farmer Fielding. “Who, Goldsborough?” “Himself.” “Are you not mistaken?” “Not a bit of it! He has been stumping the State, making secession speeches in every congressional district. I heard him make one, in our neighborhood, at the Bull’s Head Tavern. Who do you think replied to it?” “I don’t know, I am sure. I am so astonished to hear that Goldsborough is a Secessionist that I am filled with perplexity.” “Why, Vittorio Corsoni answered him. You know that there is no love lost between Goldsborough and Corsoni; and Goldsborough being a Secessionist might have been cause enough to make Corsoni a Unionist; though I have observed that naturalized foreigners, who have been protected by our Government, have been among the most zealous in its defense, and if this matter ever comes to blows, they will strike good ones.” Just then the doorbell rang violently, and when the servant ran in haste to see the cause of the noisy summons, Mr. Goldsborough burst into the house, and then into the library. His face was inflamed, his features distorted, and his eyes flashing with passion. “For Heaven’s sake, Goldsborough, what has happened?” exclaimed Dr. Rosenthal, rising, in alarm. “What? She has gone! Fled from the convent!” roared the enraged man, throwing his hat upon one chair, and his gloves upon another, and without noticing any one in the room, except his host; “yes, brought dishonor upon all her family! And may the curses of——” “Hush!” said the minister, laying his hand gently upon the lips of the speaker; “no curses, Goldsborough. Sit down quietly and compose yourself, and tell us all about it. See, here is Mr. Fielding and his daughter, your old friends.” “How do you do, Fielding? How are you, Miss Elfie? I beg your pardon for not seeing you! But you will not wonder at a man being blind with rage when his only daughter has disgraced herself and her family,” said Mr. Goldsborough, gruffly enough, as he coldly shook hands with Elfie and her “pap.” “Oh no, Mr. Goldsborough, not so bad as that! Young people will sometimes choose for themselves, you know. And though their choice may be indiscreet, and even unfortunate, it need not be disgraceful. Try to calm yourself, and make the best of it! The young man is something of a monkey, to be sure; but I believe him to be a well-meaning monkey!” urged the farmer.