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"GEORGE WASHINGTON'S" LAST DUEL.
Of all the places in the county "The Towers" was the favorite with the young people. There even before Margaret was installed the Major kept open house with his major domo and factotum "George Washington"; and when Margaret came from school, of course it was popular. Only one class of persons was excluded.
Seated in one of the high-backed arm-chairs, with one white hand shading her laughing eyes from the light, and with her evening dress daintily spread out about her, Margaret was amused at the look of desperation on the old gentleman's ruddy face. He squared his round body before the fire, braced himself with his plump legs well apart, as if he were preparing to sustain the shock of a blow, and taking a deep inspiration, gave a loud and prolonged "Whew!"
This was too much for her.
Margaret rose, and, going up to him, took his arm and looked into his face cajolingly.
"Uncle, I was bound to have Rose, and Miss Jemima would not have let her come alone."
The tone was the low, almost plaintive key, the effectiveness of which Margaret knew so well.
Margaret nodded brightly.
"I bet my horse she wears iron-gray curls, caught on the side of her head with tucking combs!"
"She does," declared Margaret, her eyes dancing.
"And has a long nose--red at the end."
The Major groaned, and vowed that he would never survive it, and that Margaret would go down to history as the slayer of her uncle.
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