But you know, father, you were rather hard upon him before his sweetheart, and a little pot is soon hot." "There was nothing to be hot about," said the Colonel, naively; "but that is neither here nor there.

You are ten times worse than he is.

He is only a prating, pedantic puppy, but you are a muff, sir, a most unmitigated muff, to stand there mum-chance and let such an article as that carry off the prize." "Oh, father," said Walter, "why will you not see that the prize is a living woman, a woman with a will of her own, and not a French eagle, or the figure-head of a ship?
Now do listen to reason." "Not a word," said the Colonel, marching off.
"But excuse me," said Walter, "I have another thing far more important to speak to you about: this unhappy lawsuit." "That's no business of yours, and I don't want your opinion of it; there is no more fight in you than there is in a hen-sparrow.

I decline your company and your pacific twaddle; I have no patience with a muff;" and the Colonel marched off, leaving his son planted there, as the French say.
Walter, however, was not long alone; the interview had been watched from a distance by Mary.

She now stole noiselessly on the scene, and laid her white hand upon her husband's shoulder before he was aware of her.