“They shan’t plague you! None of them shall! Charley Cabell shan’t come here to trouble you! _That_ he shan’t. _Come what will_, you shan’t be forced to marry him! No, no, my darling—my poor little heart-broken darling, you shan’t! I’ll see him in perdition first! And myself, too! There, don’t stop! Cry it all out on father’s neck! Don’t stop! Catch your breath and begin again! That’s right! That’s a good girl! Oh, she’ll cry a plenty this bout. Once I couldn’t bear to hear women cry! It was because I did not know that if the grief was not cried out, it would stay in the heart and burst it! I will never try to stop a woman from crying again. Cry on, my poor little thing!” And so most tenderly, but half-childishly, the old man talked, and petted, and cooed over her. Catherine slipped down stairs to prepare tea and toast. When she came back, she found Zuleime lying back upon the pillow exhausted, but composed, and still pressing the little lock of hair. Catherine set down the little waiter, and took a bowl and napkin and washed her face with cologne and water, and then brought the cup of tea. Zuleime shook her head mournfully. Catherine stooped and whispered. “For your father’s sake, dear. Look at him.” Zuleime raised her eyes to the old man’s grief-worn, anxious face, and then extended her hand for the cup, and drank the tea. While Zuleime was resting in Catherine’s arms and drinking the tea, a knock was heard at the door, and when Mr. Clifton opened it, a servant appeared and told him that Major Cabell had arrived, and wished to speak with him. And the old gentleman set his teeth, and immediately went below. CHAPTER XVI. MR. CLIFTON’S RESOLUTION. Full many a storm on this gray head has beat And now on my high station do I stand, Like the tired watchman in rocked tower, Who looketh for the hour of his release. I’m sick of worldly broil, and fain would be With those who strive no more.—JOANNA BAILLIE. “Well, old two pence ha’penny, how d’ y’ do? Family all well at last, eh?” said Major Cabell, advancing to meet Mr. Clifton, as he entered the parlor. The old gentleman extended his hand gravely, and welcomed his visitor to White Cliffs. Then he rung the bell and ordered refreshments, but Major Cabell declined the latter and inquired after the ladies. “My family are all in affliction! D—n it, Charley, you know it! Curse that Indian war! My dear Carolyn scarcely recovered from the effects of that loathsome pestilence, before here comes the news of that hideous massacre of poor Fairfax and his men, and just overwhelms my little Zuleime!” “Zuleime? My dear little wife? I trust that nothing has been permitted to afflict _her_?”