'Done? Why, let him go. You'll be well rid of him. He's a worthless fellow, or nature dosn't write English. I read 'scoundrel' all over his face.' 'He has a bad nature; but Phylly's influence on him is good, and she loves him.' '_Loves_ him! Well, there's no accounting for tastes.' 'That's true,' replied the Squire; 'but we all love those whom we do good to. She married Mulock after nursing him through a long illness, and she has tamed him, though it was taming a wolf.' We soon left the table. Preston went into the sitting room, while I resumed my seat by the bar room fire. I had nearly finished my evening cigar, when Preston came into the office, Shaking hands with young Gaston and a number of the others, who all greeted him with marked respect. He said to me: 'What shall I do? Mulock's wife will let him off if I pay her a hundred dollars.' 'Pay her a hundred dollars!' I exclaimed. 'Yes; she'll release him to Phyllis for that--give a paper to that effect. What would you do? The idea was so ludicrous that, in spite of the Squire's serious manner, I burst into a fit of laughter. Between the mirthful explosions I managed to say: 'Pardon me, Preston; but I never before heard of selling a husband--at so low a price. Ha! ha! Do not buy him; he isn't worth the money.' Then seeing that he appeared hurt, I added: 'What does Phyllis say?' 'I haven't told her; she'll feel badly to have him go, but it's not right for me to pay the money. I should pay my debts first.' Mr. Gaston, whose attention had been attracted to our conversation by my rather boisterous conversation, now said, making a strong effort to appear serious: 'Excuse me, Squire, but what is it? Has Mulock two wives; and does one offer to sell out for a hundred dollars?' 'Yes,' replied Preston, in a tone which showed a decided disinclination to conversation with him. 'Buy him, then, Squire; I'll give you twenty-five dollars for the bargain, on the spot; I will, I swear;' and, unable to contain himself longer, he burst into an uproarious fit of merriment, in which the by-sitters joined. Preston's face darkened, and in a grave voice he said: 'Young man, you forget yourself. I am sorry to see you so wanting in respect to others, and--yourself.' 'I beg your pardon, Mr. Preston,' replied Gaston, in an apologetic tone; 'I meant no offence, sir--upon my soul, I did not. If Mulock is for sale for a--'here his risibilities again gave way--'for a hundred dollars, I'll buy him; for it's cheap; I swear it's cheap, seeing he's a white man.' Preston, by this time really angered, was about to make a harsh reply, when I interrupted him: 'Never mind, my friend, let Mr. Gaston buy him; he can afford it. Do it, Mr. Gaston; it will be both a capital joke and a good action, do it _at once_.'