The angry captain opened his mouth to speak; he was about to ejaculate Woman! but his sense of propriety prevented this.  He would not apply such an epithet to any one in the house of a friend.  Wretch rose to his lips, but he would not use even that word; and he contented himself with:  “You!  You know just as well as you know you are standing there that I never had the least idea of marrying you.  You know, too, that you have tried to make people think I had, people here in town and people out at my house, where you came over and over again pretending to want to talk about your father’s health, when it did not need any more talking about than yours does.  You know you have made trouble in my family; that you so disgusted my niece that she would not stop at my house, which had been the same thing as her home; you sickened my friends; and made my very servants ashamed of me; and all this because you want to marry a man who now despises you.  I would have despised you long ago if I had seen through your tricks, but I didn’t.”

There was a smile on Miss Port’s face now, but it was not such a smile as that with which she had greeted the captain; it was a diabolical grin, brightened by malice.  “You are perfectly right,” she said; “everybody knows we are engaged to be married, and what they think about it doesn’t matter to me the snap of my finger.  The people in town all know it and talk about it, and what’s more, they’ve talked to me about it.  That niece of your’n knows it, and that’s the reason she won’t come near you, and I’m sure I’m not sorry for that.  As for that old thing that helps you at the toll-gate, and as for the young man that’s spongin’ on you, I’ve no doubt they’ve got a mighty poor opinion of you.  And I’ve no doubt they’re right.  But all that matters nothin’ to me.  You’re engaged to be married to me; you know it yourself; and everybody knows it; and what you’ve got to do is to marry, or pay.  You hear what I say, and you know what I’m goin’ to stick to.”

It may be well for Captain Asher’s reputation that he had no opportunity to answer Miss Port’s remarks.  At that instant Mr. Simeon Port appeared at the door which opened from the parlor on the piazza.  He stepped quickly, his actions showing nothing of that decrepitude which his dutiful daughter had feared would prevent him from seeking the society of his friends.  He fixed his eyes on his daughter and spoke in a loud, strong voice.

“Maria,” said he, “go to bed!  I’ve heard what you’ve been saying, and I’m ashamed of you.  I’ve been ashamed of you before, but now it’s worse than ever.  Go to bed, I tell you!  And this time, go!”