, and Tom flew in the window and fluttered viciously around his
head, as if to be revenged for exile, and then, leaping on the old
hat-box, set up a show performance, in which were all the menagerie of
town and field, and, stopping a little while to hear the bird sing her
name again, Vesta and her friends withdrew.

Mrs. Custis was found in her bedroom, much improved in spirits, but
highly nervous.

"Oh, my poor, martyred, murdered idol!" she screamed, as Vesta came in;
"are you alive? Is the beast dead? Don't tell me he dares to live."

"Yes, mamma, here are his teeth," Vesta said, when she had kissed her
mother warmly. "He has sent you a check for all your lost money, and his
love, and me to live here with you in Teackle Hall. Liberty,
restitution, as you name it, and his affection to both of us: is he not
a gentleman now?"

Mrs. Custis eagerly took the check.

"Do you believe it is good, precious? Maybe he sent it to deceive me
while he could take advantage of your gratitude. Oh, these foresters are
devils! I wish I had the money for it."

"It is good for everything he has, mamma. Not to pay it would make him a
bankrupt. He gave it to me almost with gallantry. Indeed, he is the most
singular man I ever knew."

"That is the case with all pirates," said Mrs. Custis; "something in
the female nature attracts us to lawless men, who take what they
want--ourselves included. We were, I suppose, originally, just seized
and appropriated, and are looking out for the appropriator to this day.
But you, Vesta, with the Baltimore blood in you, do not expect to play
the Sabine bride tamely like that--to defend your spoiler and reconcile
him to your brethren?"

"I was thinking it was the Baltimore blood that made me appreciate Mr.
Milburn, mamma. The Custises were not traders."

"Pshaw! the Custises were libertines, unless history belies them; they
had else no popularity in the scamp court of Charley-over-the-water. He
thought the daughter of any gentleman in his following was made for his
mistress, and a large percentage of the said damsels thought he was
right."

"Mr. Milburn is no Cavalier, I can see that," Vesta said; "I am
attracted to him by elements of such strength and simplicity that I
fancy he is a Puritan."

"Puritan fiddlestick!" Mrs. Custis said, putting Milburn's check in her
bosom and pinning it in there, and looking vigilantly at the pin
afterwards. "Now, my great comfort, my only McLane! do not idealize