"

There at my side was Dorothy, even taller in her paleness, with sorrow
and agitation in her blue eyes.

"Richard, I have heard all.--I listened. Are you going away without a
word for me?" Her breath came fast, and mine, as she laid a hand upon
my arm. "Richard, I do not care whether you are poor. What am I saying?"
she cried wildly. "Am I false to my own father? Richard, what have you
done?"

And then, while I stood dazed, she tore open her gown, and drawing forth
a little gold locket, pressed it in my palm. "The flowers you gave me
on your birthday,--the lilies of the valley, do you remember? They are
here, Richard. I have worn them upon my heart ever since."

I raised the locket to my lips.

"I shall treasure it for your sake, Dorothy," I said, "for the sake of
the old days. God keep you!"

For a moment I looked into the depths of her eyes. Then she was gone,
and I went down the stairs alone. Outside, the rain fell unheeded on
my new coat. My steps bent southward, past Whitehall, where the martyr
Charles had met death so nobly: past the stairs to the river, where she
had tripped with me so gayly not a month since. Death was in my soul
that day,--death and love, which is the mystery of life. God guided me
into the great Abbey near by, where I fell on my knees before Him and
before England's dead. He had raised them and cast them down, even as He
was casting me, that I might come to know the glory of His holy name.

Volume 7.

CHAPTER XLII. MY FRIENDS ARE PROVEN

At the door of my lodgings I was confronted by Banks, red with
indignation and fidgety from uneasiness.

"O Lord, Mr. Carvel, what has happened, sir?" he cried. "Your honour's
agent 'as been here since noon. Must I take orders from the likes o'
him, sir?"

Mr. Dix was indeed in possession of my rooms, lounging in the chair
Dolly had chosen, smoking my tobacco. I stared at him from the
threshold. Something in my appearance, or force of habit, or both
brought him to his feet, and wiped away the smirk from his face. He put
down the pipe guiltily. I told him shortly that I had heard the news
which he must have got by the packet: and that he should have his money,
tho' it took the rest of my life: and the ten per cent I had promised
him provided he would not press my Lord Comyn. He hesitated, and drummed
on the table. He was the man of business again.

"What security am I to have, Mr. Carvel?" he asked.

"My word," I said. "It has nev