“I dare say he was a Tory,” says Darthea, who feared no one. “And I am a Tory too, Miss Wynne, I would have you to know.” “I dare say,” said my aunt; “it doesn’t matter much, what you think, or what you are. You had some words with that stupid man, sir; I saw you. He looked as if he did not like it. Oh, I heard you, too.” I vainly shook my head at her. “Are you two going to fight? I am not sorry! I wish I could have that cat Ferguson out.” “I hope---oh---I am sure, Mr. Wynne, it cannot be. How dreadful!” said Darthea. “Nonsense!” cried my aunt. “A man cannot stand everything like a woman.” I said plainly, seeing how vain my aunt had made concealment, that there had been some words, but that I trusted no harm would come of it. “But there will! there will!” said Miss Peniston. “Mercy upon us!” cried my aunt; for here was Darthea on the floor, and burnt feathers and vinegar at hand, servants running about, my aunt ordering “Cut her stay-strings!” as I was turned out, hearing my aunt declare, “I do believe she is in love with all the men. Is it you or the captain? What a shameless monkey to tumble all of a heap that way! It is hardly decent. Do go away, you goose! ‘Tis a way she has. Did never you see a woman faint?” I never did, and I was scared faint myself. What between Darthea’s fainting spell, and this quarrel not of my seeking, I was uncomfortable enough. I had no one but Jack to appeal to; and here was a pair of Quaker lads, just over twenty-two, in a proper scrape. I had not the least intention of getting out of it, save in one way. The sneer at my aunt was more than I could endure. What my father would think was another matter. Mr. Wilson used to say: “When you are in difficulties dispose of the worst first;” and so I resolved, as I must fight the man, and that was the imminent matter, to set aside all thought of my parent, until I was done with Mr. Woodville. Jack I took for granted, and so left a note with the servant asking my opponent’s friend to call on Jack at an hour when he was like to be alone. Before I could leave to warn him of what was on hand my aunt came to me. “I sent that girl home in the chaise. It was her fear lest some one may be hurt, but she really has no excuse. She talked quite wild as she came to--I mean of you and Arthur Wynne--just mere babble. And, O Hugh! I am a drivelling old maid, and have taught you all manner of nonsense, and now I have got you into trouble. Don’t let him kill you, Hugh. Cannot it be stopped? I told Darthea to hold her tongue, and I am so miserable, Hugh; and when I think of your dead mother, and all I promised, what shall I do?” And the kind old lady penitently wept over me, as if I were run through already.