'He has a bad nature; but Phylly's influence on him is good, and she loves him.'
'Loves him! Well, there's no accounting for tastes.'
'That's true,' replied the Squire; 'but we all love those whom we do good to. She married Mulock after nursing him through a long illness, and she has tamed him, though it was taming a wolf.'
We soon left the table. Preston went into the sitting room, while I resumed my seat by the bar room fire.
I had nearly finished my evening cigar, when Preston came into the office, Shaking hands with young Gaston and a number of the others, who all greeted him with marked respect. He said to me:
'What shall I do? Mulock's wife will let him off if I pay her a hundred dollars.'
'Pay her a hundred dollars!' I exclaimed.
'Yes; she'll release him to Phyllis for that—give a paper to that effect. What would you do?
The idea was so ludicrous that, in spite of the Squire's serious manner, I burst into a fit of laughter. Between the mirthful explosions I managed to say:
'Pardon me, Preston; but I never before heard of selling a husband—at so low a price. Ha! ha! Do not buy him; he isn't worth the money.' Then seeing that he appeared hurt, I added: 'What does Phyllis say?'