with a curtsey.

I was as a man without a tongue, my hunger gone from sheer
happiness--and fright. And yet eating the breakfast with a relish
because she had made it. She busied herself about the room, dusting here
and tidying there, and anon throwing a glance at me to see if I needed
anything. My eyes followed her hither and thither. When I had finished,
she undid the napkin, and brushed the crumbs from the coverlet.

"You are not going?" I said, with dismay.

"Did you wish anything more, sir?" she asked.

"Oh, Dorothy," I cried, "it is you I want, and you will not come near
me."

For an instant she stood irresolute. Then she put down the tray and came
over beside me.

"Do you really want me, sir?"

"Dorothy," I began, "I must first tell you that I have some guess at
the sacrifice you are making for my sake, and of the trouble and danger
which I bring you."

Without more ado she put her hand over my mouth.

"No," she said, reddening, "you shall tell me nothing of the sort."

I seized her hand, however it struggled, and holding it fast, continued:

"And I have learned that you have been watching with me by night, and
working by day, when you never should have worked at all. To think that
you should be reduced to that, and I not know it!"

Her eyes sought mine for a fleeting second.

"Why, you silly boy, I have made a fortune out of my cookery. And fame,
too, for now am I known from Mary-le-bone to Chelsea, while before my
name was unheard of out of little Mayfair. Indeed, I would not have
missed the experience for a lady-in-waiting-ship. I have learned a deal
since I saw you last, sir. I know that the world, like our Continental
money, must not be taken for the price that is stamped upon it. And as
for the watching with you," said my lady, "that had to be borne with
as cheerfully as might be. Since I had sent off for you, I was in duty
bound to do my share toward your recovery. I was even going to add
that this watching was a pleasure,--our curate says the sense of duty
performed is sure to be. But you used to cry out the most terrifying
things to frighten me: the pattering of blood and the bumping of bodies
on the decks, and the black rivulets that ran and ran and ran and never
stopped; and strange, rough commands I could not understand; and the
name of your commodore whom you love so much. And often you would repeat
over and over: 'I have not yet begun, to fight, I have not yet begun to
fight!'"

"Ye