nd 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!'"

"Yes, 'twas that he answered when they asked him if he had struck,"
I exclaimed.

"It must have been an awful scene," she said, and her shoulders quivered.
"When you were at your worst you would talk of it, and sometimes of what
happened to you in London, of that ride in Hyde Park, or--or of
Vauxhall," she continued hurriedly. "And when I could bear it no longer,
I would take your hand and call you by name, and often quiet you thus."

"And did I speak of aught else?" I asked eagerly.

"Oh, yes. When you were caliper, it would be of your childhood, of your
grandfather and your birthdays, of Captain Clapsaddle, and of Patty and
her father."

"And never