wrong,
rose; and she had a veritable ovation, coming away with flying colors.
This, however, served to satisfy her. Thenceforward she desisted and
left poor John Throckmorton in peace.

I knew her well. She used once in a while to come and see me, having
some story or other to tell. On one occasion I said to her: "Ellen, why
do you pursue this man in this cruel way? What possible good can it do
you?" She looked me straight in the eye and slowly replied: "Because I
love him."

I investigated the case closely and thoroughly and was assured, as he
had assured me, that he had never done her the slightest wrong. She had,
on occasion, told me the same thing, and this I fully believed.

He was a man, every inch of him, and a gentleman through and
through--the very soul of honor in his transactions of every sort--most
highly respected and esteemed wherever he was known--yet his life was
made half a failure and wholly unhappy by this "crazy Jane," the general
public taking appearances for granted and willing to believe nothing
good of one who, albeit proud and honorable, held defiantly aloof,
disdaining self-defense.

On the whole I have not known many men more unfortunate than John
Throckmorton, who, but for "Old Hell's Delight," would have encountered
little obstacle to the pursuit of prosperity and happiness.

III

Another interesting Kentuckian of this period was John Thompson Gray.
He was a Harvard man--a wit, a scholar, and, according to old Southern
standards, a chevalier. Handsome and gifted, he had the disastrous
misfortune just after leaving college to kill his friend in a duel--a
mortal affair growing, as was usual in those days, out of a trivial
cause--and this not only saddened his life, but, in its ambitious aims,
shadowed and defeated it. His university comrades had fully counted on
his making a great career. Being a man of fortune, he was able to live
like a gentleman without public preferment, and this he did, except to
his familiars aloof and sensitive to the last.

William Preston, the whilom Minister to Spain and Confederate General,
and David Yandell, the eminent surgeon, were his devoted friends, and a
notable trio they made. Stoddard Johnston, Boyd Winchester and I--very
much younger men--sat at their feet and immensely enjoyed their
brilliant conversation.

Dr. Yandell was not only as proclaimed by Dr. Gross and Dr. Sayre
the ablest surgeon of his day, but he was also a gentleman of varied