There was no help for it; he felt himself worsted; and, after the agony of a couple of months, he retreated from a field which he no longer could maintain. He resigned his post in the town council; made the necessary arrangements with his partner in business to give up his active share, and retired, a man well to do, to spend the rest of his days in peace at the little coast-town, about ten miles from his former dwelling, the localities of which we have already described. There, then, he settled with his wife and only daughter; there he embellished, improved, did good, and enjoyed his doings, and passed his time in that busy and important usefulness which was so well suited to his disposition. But we forgot all this time to make the reader acquainted with his name. It was one which, though not uncommon, was in some degree remarkable, being neither more nor less than John Deer. Now he certainly was not so lightfooted as a roe, nor so timid as a stag, nor possessed of any of the distinctive qualities of the cervine creation. He was much too consequential a person also for any one--not even excepting his own wife--to venture to play upon his name, and turn John Deer into Dear John: so that the name of Deer could come to no harm in his hands. But, alack and well-a-day! he had, as we have before said, one fair daughter, whom he loved passing well; and she was beautiful as a rose, gentle as a dove, timid as a young fawn, and her name was Ann; so that it very naturally happened that when anybody spoke of her as Annie Deer, there was an expression about the lips and a meaning in the eyes which gave the last _e_ in her name very much the effect of an _a_; and Annie Deer from her father's and her mother's lips--and one other pair besides--was Annie dear whenever she was mentioned. Now it was natural for her father to call her so, and very natural for her mother to call her so, and still more natural than all for one other person in the village to call her so also; but who that person was remains to be shown. We will not keep the reader a moment in suspense. Suspense is wrong, unjust, wicked: persons who have been condemned by a competent jury, and judged by a competent judge, are the only ones to whom suspense should be applied; and very seldom, if ever, even then. The person who pronounced the name of Annie Deer with such a tone shall be disclosed to the reader immediately.