When J r me Lafirme died, his neighbors awaited the results of his sudden taking off with indolent watchful-ness. It was a matter of unusual interest to them that a plantation of four thousand acres had been left unincum-bered to the disposal of a handsome, inconsolable, child-less Creole widow of thirty. A b tise of some sort might safely be looked for. But time passing, the anticipated fol-ly failed to reveal itself; and the only wonder was that...