would seem we should disperse them with fright. "I wept when I must
see my good friend, Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles, depart from our
ship in one of those tug boats. It was a pain in my breast that he
must leave me to go into the wildness of Canada."

"Oh, then he went to Canada first?" exclaimed that Madam Whitworth as
she leaned back on her seat as if relieved from some form of a great
anxiety about the departure of that Capitaine, the Count de Lasselles.

"Is it that you are also a friend of my Capitaine?" I demanded with a
great eagerness of pleasure if it should be so.

"Oh, no, no, indeed!" exclaimed the beautiful Madam Whitworth. "I was
speaking of my own friend who might have taken a Canadian line instead
of the American. She is so careless about instructions. Now look; we
are beginning to wind down into the very heart of the Harpeth Valley,
and by the time you make very tidy that mop of hair you have on your
head and I powder my nose, we will be in Hayesville to face the
General in all of his glory. Mind you kiss my hand so he can see you!
I want to give him that sensation in payment of a debt I owe him. Now
do go and smooth the mop if it takes a pint of water to do it. That
New York tailor has turned you out wonderfully, but even those very
square English tweeds do not entirely disguise the French cavalier.
You're a beautiful boy and the girls in Hayesville will eat you up--if
the General ever lets them get a sight of you--which he probably
won't. Now go to the mop!"

For many years, since the lonely day just after the death of my
mother, when my father took me into the furthest depths of his sad
heart and told me of his exile from the place in which he had been