But the Major turned upon her the terrific countenance she had last seen on Jane's wedding day, and she fell silent from sheer inability to utter a protest befitting the occasion. “If that stagedriver enters my house, I leave it, ma'am,” thundered the old gentleman, with a stamp of his gouty foot. “You may choose between us, if you like,--I have never interfered with your fancies--but, by God, if you bring him inside my doors I--I will horsewhip him, madam,” and he went limping out into the hall. On the stair he met Betty, who looked at him with pleading eyes, but fled, affrighted, before the colour of his wrath; and in his library he found Champe reading his favourite volume of Mr. Addison. “I hope you aren't scratching up my books, sir,” he observed, eying the pencil in his great-nephew's hand. Champe looked at him with his cool glance, and rose leisurely to his feet. “Why, I'd as soon think of scrawling over Aunt Emmeline's window pane,” he returned pleasantly, and added, “I hope you had a successful trip, sir.” “I got a lukewarm supper and a cold breakfast,” replied the Major irritably, “and I heard that the Marines had those Kansas raiders entrapped like rats in the arsenal, if that is what you mean.” “No, I wasn't thinking of that,” replied Champe, as quietly as before. “I came home to find out about Dan, you know, and I hoped you went into town to look him up.” “Well, I didn't, sir,” declared the Major, “and as for that scamp--I have as much knowledge of his whereabouts as I care for.--Do you know, sir,” he broke out fiercely, “that he has taken to driving a common stage?” Champe was sharpening his pencil, and he did not look up as he answered. “Then the sooner he leaves off the better, eh, sir?” he inquired. “Oh, there's your everlasting wrangling!” exclaimed the Major with a hopeless gesture. “You catch it from Molly, I reckon, and between you, you'll drive me into dotage yet. Always arguing! Never any peace. Why, I believe if I were to take it into my head to remark that white is white, you would both be setting out to convince me that it is black. I tell you now, sir, that the sooner you curb that tendency of yours, the better it will be.” “Aren't we rather straying from the point?” interposed Champe half angrily. “There it is again,” gasped the Major. The knife slipped in Champe's hand and scratched his finger. “Surely you don't intend to leave Dan to knock about for himself much longer?” he said coolly. “If you do, sir, I don't mind saying that I think it is a damn shame.” “How dare you use such language in my presence?” roared the old gentleman, growing purple to the neck. “Have you, also, been fighting for barmaids and taking up with gaol-birds? It is what I have to expect, I suppose, and I may as well accustom my ears to profanity; but damn you, sir, you must learn some decency;” and going into the hall he shouted to Congo to bring him a julep.