ampered up her "fine high-spirited son" to his full-grown
criminality by a foolish education, really--when she had time to think
of any thing but him--was excessively frightened. The general would be
back to-morrow, and then--and then!--she dreaded to picture that
explosion of his wrath.

CHAPTER XV.

SATISFACTION.

SIR ABRAHAM TAMWORTH, G.C.B.--a fine old Admiral of the White, who
somewhat looked down upon the rank of General, H.E.I.C.S.--was
astonished, as well he might be, at Mr. Saunders, and his message: and,
of course, most gladly acquiesced in acting as poor Emily's protector.
Accordingly, however jealous Lady Tamworth and her daughters might
heretofore have felt of that bright beauty at the balls, they were now
all genuine sympathy, indignation, and affection. Emily, I need hardly
say, went straight up stairs to have her cry out.

"Whom are you writing to, George, in such a hurry?" asked the admiral,
of a fine moustachioed son, George St. Vincent Tamworth, of the Royal
Horse Guards, who had just got six months' leave of absence for the sake
of marriage with his cousin.

The gallant soldier tossed a billet to his father, who mounted his
spectacles, and quietly read it at the lamp.

"Captain Tamworth desires Mr. Julian Tracy's company to-morrow morning,
at seven o'clock, in the third meadow on the Oxton road. The captain
brings a friend with him; also pistols and a surgeon; and he desires Mr.
Tracy to do the like: Prospect House, Thursday evening."

"So, George, you consider him a gentleman, do you? I am afraid it's a
poor compliment to our fair young friend." And he quietly crumpled up
the challenge in his iron hand.

"Really, sir!--you surprise me;--pardon me, but I will send that note:
mustn't I chastise the fellow for this insufferable outrage?"

"No doubt, George, no doubt of it at all: when a lady is insulted, and a
man (not to say a queen's officer) stands by without taking notice of
it, he deserves whipping at the cart's-tail, and Coventry for life. I've
no patience, boy, with such mean meekness, as putting up with bullying
insolence when a woman's in the case. Let a man show moral courage, if
he can and will, in his own affront; I honour him who turns on his heel
from common personal insult, and only wish my own old blood was cool
enough to do so: but the mother, wife, and sister, ay, George, and the
poor defenceless one, be she lady, peasant, or menial, who comes to us
for safety in a