t affright
me thus? What desperate thing has happened? O, Adolphus! you'll be the
death of me."

"I'll be the death of that cursed young vagabond, John Camford," blurted
forth the squire, in a tone of terrible rage.

"O, my son, my brilliant among my jewels! how has he incurred your
displeasure?" faintly articulated Mrs. Camford.

"Why, I saw the graceless scamp tugging a girl through the French market
this morning, filling her hands with bouquets and all sorts of
fol-de-rols. There is where the money goes he wheedles out of me every
week; but I'll fix the young rapscallion. Next thing, we shall have some
creole girl, or mulatto wench introduced to the family as Mrs. Camford,
junior."

The squire fairly foamed at the mouth, with anger. His fair consort was
in frantic hysterics, beating the floor with her heels, and exclaiming,

"O, mercy, mercy! my son, my Daniel, Henry, Thomas, Lewis, John! my
brilliant, among my jewels! O, spare him for the love of Heaven, my
husband, my adored Adolphus!"

Thisbe was following her mistress and bobbing the nerve-reviver to her
nose, but it failed to produce the usual effect. All the servants in
attendance stood with their mouths agape, while the three jewel
daughters proceeded quietly with their breakfast, and Alice sat among
them, a silent spectator of the scene. And now, as if to cap the climax,
in walked the culprit, Mr. Jack Camford, in _propria persona_, looking
as unconcerned and innocent as if nothing had occurred to displace him
in his father's good graces. At sight of her brilliant son, Mrs. Camford
shrieked and fell prostrate on the floor, and Thisbe, in the moment of
excitement, seized the senseless form and carried it from the room with
as much ease as she would have borne a cotton-bale. No sooner had the
door closed on his delicate spouse, than Esq. Camford bellowed forth,
"Daniel Henry Thomas Lewis John Camford, you rascal, come and stand
before your father!" The son instantly did as commanded. Doffing his
"Kossuth," and passing one hand through the long locks of curling black
hair, he swept it away from his clear, smooth brow, and stood
confronting his wrathful parent with a calm, unembarrassed aspect. He
was certainly a handsome young fellow, and Winnie Morris was quite
excusable for loving him a little in her girlish heart. The father's
anger softened as he gazed on his fair-looking boy, and when he spoke,
his voice had lost all its former harshness.

"Jack, m