waistcoat before the week is out."

The Major stroked his well-filled velvet vest caressingly, as if he
already felt the pangs of the approaching separation.

"Oh, dear! You amaze me," began Miss Jemima.

"Yes, madam, I should be amazed myself, except that I have stood it
so long. Why, I had once an affair with an intimate and valued friend,
Judge Carrington. You may have heard of him, a very distinguished man!
and I was indiscreet enough to carry that rascal George Washington to
the field, thinking, of course, that I ought to go like a gentleman, and
although the affair was arranged after we had taken our positions, and I
did not have the pleasure of shooting at him.

"Good heavens!" exclaimed Miss Jemima. "_The pleasure of shooting at
your friend!_ Monstrous!"

"I say I did not have that pleasure," corrected the Major, blandly; "the
affair was, as I stated, arranged without a shot; yet do you know? that
rascal George Washington will not allow that it was so, and I understand
he recounts with the most harrowing details the manner in which 'he and
I,' as he terms it, shot my friend--murdered him."

Miss Jemima gave an "Ugh. Horrible! What depravity!" she said, almost
under her breath.

The Major caught the words.

"Yes, madam, it is horrible to think of such depravity. Unquestionably
he deserves death; but what can one do! The law, kept feeble by
politicians, does not permit one to kill them, however worthless they
are (he observed Miss Jemima's start,)--except, of course, by way of
example, under certain peculiar circumstances, as I have stated to you."
He bowed blandly.

Miss Jemima was speechless, so he pursued.

"I have sometimes been tempted to make a break for liberty, and have
thought that if I could once get the rascal on the field, with my old
pistols, I would settle with him which of us is the master."

"Do you mean that you would--would shoot him?" gasped Miss Jemima.

"Yes, madam, unless he should be too quick for me," replied the Major,
blandly,--"or should order me from the field, which he probably would
do."

The old lady turned and hastily left the room.

III.

Though Miss Jemima after this regarded the Major with renewed suspicion,
and confided to her niece that she did not feel at all safe with him,
the old gentleman was soon on the same terms with Rose that he was on
with Margaret herself. He informed her that he was just twenty-five
his "last grass," and that he never could,