e of you the sacrifice of leaving
London now?"

"It is my pleasure as well as my duty, captain."

"No," he said, "I am not like that. Yesterday I went to the city to see
a shipowner whose acquaintance I made when he was a master in the West
India trade. He has had some reason to know that I can handle a ship.
Never mind what. And he has given me the bark 'Betsy', whose former
master is lately dead of the small-pox. Richard, I sail to-morrow."

In Dorothy's coach to Whitehall Stairs, by the grim old palace out of
whose window Charles the Martyr had walked to his death. For Dorothy had
vowed it was her pleasure to see John Paul off, and who could stand
in her way? Surely not Mr. Marmaduke! and Mrs. Manners laughingly
acquiesced. Our spirits were such that we might have been some honest
mercer's apprentice and his sweetheart away for an outing.

"If we should take a wherry, Richard," said Dolly, "who would know of
it? I have longed to be in a wherry ever since I came to London."

The river was smiling as she tripped gayly down to the water, and the
red-coated watermen were smiling, too, and nudging one another. But
little cared we! Dolly in holiday humour stopped for naught. "Boat, your
honour! Boat, boat! To Rotherhithe--Redriff? Two and six apiece, sir."
For that intricate puzzle called human nature was solved out of hand by
the Thames watermen. Here was a young gentleman who never heard of the
Lord Mayor's scale of charges. And what was a shilling to such as he!
Intricate puzzle, indeed! Any booby might have read upon the young man's
face that secret which is written for all,--high and low, rich and poor
alike.

My new lace handkerchief was down upon the seat, lest Dolly soil her
bright pink lutestring. She should have worn nothing else but the hue of
roses. How the bargemen stared, and the passengers craned their necks,
and the longshoremen stopped their work as we shot past them! On her
account a barrister on the Temple Stairs was near to letting fall
his bag in the water. A lady in a wherry! Where were the whims of the
quality to lead them next? Past the tall water-tower and York Stairs,
the idlers under the straight row of trees leaning over the high river
wall; past Adelphi Terrace, where the great Garrick lived; past the
white columns of Somerset House, with its courts and fountains and
alleys and architecture of all ages, and its river gate where many a
gilded royal barge had lain, and many a fine ambassa