generous, cried out heartily:--

"Egad, captain, there you are a true sailor! Which would you rather have
been, I say, William Shakespeare or Sir Francis?"

"Which would you rather be, Richard," said Dolly to me, under her
breath, "Horace Walpole or Captain John Paul? I begin to like your
captain better."

Willy nilly, Mr. Walpole was forever doing me a service. Now, in order
to ignore the captain more completely, he sat him down to engage Mr.
and Mrs. Manners. Comyn was soon hot in an argument with John Paul
concerning the seagoing qualities of a certain frigate, every rope and
spar of which they seemed to know. And so I stole a few moments with
Dorothy.

"You are going to take the captain to Maryland, Richard?" she asked,
playing with her fan.

"I intend to get him the Belle of the Tye. 'Tis the least I can do. For
I am at my wits' end how to reward him, Dolly. And when are you coming
back?" I whispered earnestly, seeing her silent.

"I would that I knew, Richard," she replied, with a certain sadness that
went to my heart, as tho' the choice lay beyond her. Then she changed.
"Richard, there was more in Mr. Lloyd's letter than mamma told you of.
There was ill news of one of your friends."

"News!"

She looked at me fixedly, and then continued, her voice so low that I
was forced to bend over:

"Yes. You were not told that Patty Swain fell in a faint when she heard
of your disappearance. You were not told that the girl was ill for a
week afterwards. Ah, Richard, I fear you are a sad flirt. Nay, you may
benefit by the doubt,--perchance you are going home to be married."

You may be sure that this intelligence, from Dorothy's lips, only
increased my trouble and perplexity.

"You say that Patty has been ill?"

"Very ill," says she, with her lips tight closed.

"Indeed, I grieve to hear of it," I replied; "but I cannot think that my
accident had anything to do with the matter."

"Young ladies do not send their fathers to coffee-houses to prevent
duels unless their feelings are engaged," she flung back.

"You have heard the story of that affair, Dorothy. At least enough of it
to do me justice."

She was plainly agitated.

"Has Lord Comyn--"

"Lord Comyn has told you the truth," I said; "so much I know."

Alas for the exits and entrances of life! Here comes the footman.

"Mr. Fox," said he, rolling the name, for it was a great one.

Confound Mr. Fox! He might have waited five short minutes.

It was