Considering what he knows of my character, Molly, I almost suspect that he might have spared himself this trouble. Did he, or did any one else, ever see me posed by a difficulty? When did any event take me unawares? Am I by nature one of those terrified creatures that get flurried by misfortune; or am I, by the blessing of Providence, gifted in a remarkable manner with great powers of judgment, matured by a deep knowledge of life, and a thorough acquaintance with the wickedness of the human heart? That's the whole question,--which am I? Is it after twenty-six years' studying his disposition and pondering over all his badness, that any one can come and teach me how to manage him? I know K. I. as I know my old slipper; and, indeed, one is worth about as much as the other! I have n't the patience--it would be too much to expect from any one--to tell you how beautifully Mister Tom discourses to me about the innocent freedoms of the Continent, and the harmless fragilities of female life abroad! Does the old sinner believe in his heart that black is white abroad? and would he have me think that what's murder in Bruff was only a justifiable hom'-a-side at Brussels? If he doesn't meau that, what does he mean? Maybe, to be sure, he 's one of the fashionable set that make out that the husband is always driven to some kind of vice or other by his wife's conduct! For, I must remark to you, Molly, there 's a set of people now in the world--they call themselves "The Peace Congress," I think--that say there must be no more wars, no fighting, domestically or nationally! Their notion is this: everybody is right, and nobody need quarrel with his neighbor, but settle any trifling disagreement by means of arbitration. Mister Tom is, perhaps, an arbitrator. Well, I hope he likes the office! Since I knew anything of life myself, I always found that if there was three people mixed up in a shindy there was no hope of settling it, on any terms. He says, K. I. is coming home. Let him come, says I. Let him surrender himself, Molly, and justice will take its course. That's all the satisfaction I 'll give either of them. "Don't be vindictive," says Mister Tom. Isn't that pretty language to use to me, I ask? Is the Chief Justice "vindictive," Molly, when he says, "Stand forward, and hear your sentence"? Is he behaving "unlike a Christian" when he says, "Use the little time that's left you in making your peace"? The old creature then goes on to quote Scripture to me, and talks about the prodigal son. "Very well," says I, "be it so. K. I. may be that if he likes, but I 'll not be the fatted calf,--that's all!" The fact is, Molly, I'm immutable as the Maids and Prussians. They may talk till they 're black in the face, but I 'll never forgive him!