While I was thus communing with myself, I received a message from Mrs. D. that she wished to see me. I take shame to myself for the confession, Tom, but I own that I felt it like an order to come up for sentence. There could be no longer any question of my guilt,--my trial was over; there remained nothing but to hear the last words of the law, which seemed to say, "Kenny Dodd, you have been convicted of a great offence. By your blundering stupidity--your unbridled temper, and your gratuitous folly--you have destroyed your son's chance of worldly fortune, blasted his affections, and--and lost him four thousand a year. But your iniquity does not end even here. You have also--" As I reached this, the door opened, and Mrs. D., in her "buff coat," as I used to call a certain flannel dressing-gown that she usually donned for battle, slowly entered, followed by Mary Anne, with a whole pharmacopoeia of restoratives,--an "ambulance" that plainly predicted hot work before us. Resolving that our duel should have no witnesses, I turned the girls out of the room, and for the same reason do I preserve a rigid secrecy as to all the details of our engagement; enough when I say that the sun went down upon our wrath, and it was near nightfall when we drew off our forces. Though I fought vigorously, and with the courage of despair, I couldn't get over the fact that it was my unhappy explosion in French that did all the mischief. I tried hard to make it appear that her sudden departure was rather a boon than otherwise; that our expenses were terrific, and, moreover, that, as I was determined against any fictitious settlement, her flight had only anticipated a certain catastrophe; but all these devices availed me little against my real culpability, which no casuistry could get over. "Well, ma'am," said I, at last, "one thing is quite clear,--the Continent does not suit us. All our experience of foreign life and manners neither guides us in difficulty nor warns us when in danger. Let us go back to where we are, at least, as wise as our neighbors,--where we are familiar with the customs, and where, whatever our shortcomings, we meet with the indulgent judgment that comes of old acquaintance." "Where 's that?" said she. "I 'm curious to know where is this elegant garden of paradise?" "Bruff, ma'am,--our own neighborhood." "Where we were always in hot water with every one. Were you ever out of a squabble on the Bench or at the poorhouse? Were n't you always disputing about land with the tenants, and about water with the miller? Had n't you a row at every assizes, and a skirmish at every road session? Bruff, indeed; it's a new thing to hear it called the Happy Valley!" "Faith, I know I 'm not Rasselas," said I. "You're restless enough," said she, mistaking the word; "but it's your own temper that does it. No, Mr. D., if you want to go back to Ireland, I won't be selfish enough to oppose it; but as for myself, I 'll never set a foot in it."