Fanny’s fears for Dr. Lacey’s safety were immediately roused; and again were her arms wound round the neck of her enraged father, while she begged of him to be quiet, and think reasonably of the matter.  Not long could one resist the arguments of Fanny; and in less than half an hour her father grew calm, and said more gently, “I shouldn’t have been so rarin’ mad, if it had been anybody but you, Sunshine.  I s’pose I did go on high, and swar like a pirate.  I didn’t mean to do that, for I promised Bill I’d try and leave off.”

“Leave swearing?” said Fanny.  “Oh, I’m so glad.  I hope you will.  Now promise that you will, dear father, and say again that you will not mention Dr. Lacey’s conduct either to him or to any one else.”

“I have promised once,” said Mr. Middleton, “and one promise is as good as forty.  Old Josh’ll never break his word as long as he has his senses.  But that paltry doctor owes his life to you, Sunshine.  Half an hour ago I was as fully set to knock him over as I am now determined to let the varmint go to destruction in his own way.”

Fanny shuddered at the idea of her father becoming the murderer of Dr. Lacey, and Mrs. Middleton rejoined, “I am glad, husband, to hear you talk more sensibly.  It can do no possible good for you to shoot Dr. Lacey, and then lose your own life, as you assuredly would; besides, I think the less we say of the matter, the better it will be.”

“I reckon you are right, Nancy,” said Mr. Middleton; “but hang it all, what excuse shall I give Bill for not lettin’ the gals go to New Orleans?”

“But, father,” said Fanny, “you will let Julia go, of course.  Uncle knows I do not intend to go, and consequently will think nothing of that; and there is no reason why Julia should not go to New Orleans, and I to New York.  Now, say we may; that’s a dear father.”

“I s’pose I’ll have to, honey,” answered Mr. Middleton; “but if I can see ahead an inch, you’re bitin’ your own nose off by sending Tempest to New Orleans without you.”

Afterward Fanny remembered this speech, and understood it, too; but now she was prevented from giving it a thought by her father, who continued, “Doesn’t that Cameron chap live some’us in New York?”

There was no reason for it, but Fanny blushed deeply as she replied, “Yes, sir; Mr. Cameron lives in New York City; but I am not going to see him.”

“Mebby not,” answered her father; “but my name ain’t Josh if he won’t be on the lookout for you.  And ’twixt us, darling, now the doctor’s sarved you such a scaly trick, I shouldn’t pitch and drive much if I heard that you and Cameron were on good terms.”

“That will never, never be,” answered Fanny.  “I shall always live at home with you and mother.”

“You are a blessed daughter,” said Mr. Middleton, “and I hope there’s better fortin in store for you than to stay hived up with us two old crones; and I can’t help thinkin’ that you’ll have Dr. Lacey yet, or somebody a heap better.  Now go to bed, child, for your eyes are gettin’ red like, and heavy.”