had made it firm."

"That was a day too late for my pride. The Dawes have some pride, Jack
Morgan."

"They have reason for it, Mistress Dawe."

"Their friends should respect it."

"I was hoping to increase it. Why, thinkest thou, did I resolve to
risk life and limb in the Indies, unless to gather wealth, that I might
lay it at thy feet?"

"Nay; thou wert bitten by the flea of adventure, and must needs rush
about the world to deaden the itching. Suppose that I had rather have
thee remain at home, being but a plain maid, who would find contentment
as a farmer's wife?"

The idea had not occurred to Johnnie, and he gasped in astonishment.
Dolly saw his confusion, and wisely did not press her point. On the
contrary, woman-like, she dropped the whole thread of the argument, and
simply exclaimed a little plaintively,--

"I am sore wearied!"

"Wearied!" cried Johnnie, facing round. "Wearied of what?"

"I have walked from Newnham, and 'tis a trying journey with the wind
buffeting one so rudely."

"I thought thou hadst ridden with thy father."

"I walked alone; I wanted to see thee alone. Why should we part ill
friends, that have loved one another?"

The next moment a tearful maid was in a strong man's arms. All the
wrongs on both sides, real and imaginary, were forgiven and forgotten.
Two happy, laughing lovers sat and watched the gulls wheeling, dipping,
rising in the spring sunshine.

"Thou hast rare roses in thy cheeks, sweetheart," said Johnnie.

"'Tis the wind," replied Dolly.

"'March wind!'" murmured the youth.

"'April showers!'" sobbed the maiden; for she thought of the morrow,
and the tears came into the brave blue eyes.

Chapter XXVII.

IN PLYMOUTH.

The arrow sang its curving flight through the air and stuck, with a
quick quiver, in the very centre of the target. "Four times out of six
have I found his heart, and a pennypiece would cover the four,"
exclaimed Nick Johnson. "'Twill do!" He put his bow-point to his toe,
loosened the string, and laid the weapon aside. Brother Ned slipped
his own bow from his shoulder, strung it, tested its tautness and
rigidity, and took six arrows from the boy who waited upon the patrons
of archery ground. He shot; the arrow went wide. He sighed, rubbed
his eyes as though to clear them from mist, and shot again. The shaft
lodged on the outer edge of the target, almost splintering the wood.
"Better," said Nick encouragingly. Ned shot a thir