“It was simply this.  Not being class-mates, they had been almost strangers to each other at college, until, by a mere accident, an argument respecting your Southern institutions led to an angry dispute, and harsh words passed between them.  Being both of the ardent temperament you so much admire, a challenge ensued, and, in spite of my entreaty and remonstrance, a duel.  Your brother was seriously wounded, and Harold, shocked beyond expression, knelt by his side as he lay bleeding on the sward, and bitterly accusing himself, begged his forgiveness, and, I need not add, received it frankly.  Harold was unremitting in his attentions to your brother during the period of his illness, and from the day of that hostile meeting, the most devoted friendship has existed between them.  But it was an idle quarrel, Miss Weems, and was near to have cost you an only brother.”

She remained silent for a few moments, and was evidently affected by the recital.  Then she spoke, softly as if communing with herself:  “Harold is a brave and noble fellow, and I thank God that he did not kill my brother!” and a bright tear rolled upon her cheek.  She dashed it away, almost angrily, and glancing steadily at Arthur: 

“Do you condemn duelling?”

“Assuredly.”

“But what would you have men do in the face of insult?  Would you not have fought under the same provocation?”

“No, nor under any provocation.  I hold too sacred the life that God has given.  With God’s help, I shall not shed human blood, except in the strict line of necessity and duty.”

“It is evident, sir, that you hold your own life most sacred,” she said, with a curl of her proud lip that was unmistakable.

She did not observe the pallor that overspread his features, nor the expression, not of anger, but of anguish, that settled upon his face, for she had turned half away from him, and was gazing vacantly across the river.  There was an unpleasant pause, which was broken by the noise of voices in alarm near the house, the trampling of hoofs, and the rattle of wheels.

The carriage had been standing at the door, while Beverly was arranging some casual business, which delayed him in his rooms.  While the attention of the groom in charge had been attracted by some freak of his companions, a little black urchin, not over five years of age, had clambered unnoticed into the vehicle, and seizing the long whip, began to flourish it about with all his baby strength.  The horses, which were high bred and spirited, had become impatient, and feeling the lash, started suddenly, jerking themselves free from the careless grasp of the inattentive groom.  The sudden shout of surprise and terror that arose from the group of idle negroes, startled the animals into a gallop, and they went coursing, not along the road, but upon the lawn, straight toward the river bank, which, in the line of their course, was precipitous and rocky.  As Oriana and Arthur turned at the sound, they beheld the frightened steeds plunging across the lawn, and upon the carriage seat the little fellow who had caused the mischief was crouching bewildered and helpless, and screaming with affright.  Oriana clasped her hands, and cried tearfully: