"He regarded me with a smile. 'There are two sides to everything, especially a row,' he said. 'I made up my mind when a boy that turn-about is fair play. When I insult a man, I'm prepared to take the consequences; yet I never insulted a man in my life. The man that insults me must pay for it. Women may wipe their feet on me, and children may spit on me; but no man shall insult me, not by so much as the lift of an eyelash, or the twitch of an upper-lip. Pulaski here has done me many a favour, some that he tried to hide, and I'd never get through paying him if I were to nurse him night and day for the rest of my natural life. In some things, Ma'am, you'll find me almost as good as a dog.' "I must have given him a curious stare," continued Mrs. Lumsden, "for he laughed softly, and remarked, 'If you'll think it over, Ma'am, you'll find that a dog has some mighty fine qualities.' And it is true." "But what about Margaret Gaither?" inquired Nan, who was determined that the love-story should not be lost in a wilderness of trifles--as she judged them to be. "Poor Margaret!" murmured Gabriel's grandmother. "I declare! I had almost forgotten her. Well, bright and early the next morning, Margaret came and asked to see Pulaski Tomlin. I left her in the parlour, and carried her request to the sick-room. "'Brother,' said Fanny, 'Margaret is here, and wants to see you. Shall she come in?' "I saw Pulaski clench his hands; his bosom heaved and his lips quivered. 'Not for the world!' he exclaimed; 'oh, not for the world!' "'I can't tell her that,' said I. 'Nor I,' sobbed Fanny, covering her face with her hands. 'Oh, it will kill her!' "Major Perdue turned to me, his eyes wet. 'Do you know why he doesn't want her to see him?' I could only give an affirmative nod. 'Do you know, Fanny?' She could only say, 'Yes, yes!' between her sobs. 'It is for her sake alone; we all see that,' declared Major Perdue. 'Now, then,' he went on, touching me on the arm, 'I want you to see how hard a hard man can be. Show me where the poor child is.'