“‘Good night, Peggy,’ says I.
“‘Oh, Philip, do be kind, do come to me; I’m frightened out of my life. I shall have to stay here all night.’
“So, you see, I did feel some little pity for her, and I went up to her, and she told me how she had sent him, and he had never come back again.
“‘The fact is,’ says I, ‘Peggy, you aren’t smart enough for such a Frenchified chap as he is. He don’t like to be seen in your company. Come, get up, and I will see you home, at all events;’ so I took charge of her, and saw her safe to her father’s door.
“‘Won’t you come in?’ said she.
“‘No, thank you,’ says I.
“‘Won’t you forgive me, Philip?’ said she.
“‘Yes,’ says I, ‘I’ll forgive you, for old acquaintance sake, and for one more reason.’
“‘What’s that?’ says Peggy.
“‘Why,’ says I, ‘for the lesson which you’ve learnt me. I’ve been made a fool of once, and it’s your fault; but if ever a woman makes a fool of me again, why, then it’s mine. And so, Peggy, good bye for ever.’