out, who asked me if I
was Mr. Carvel, and told me that you had called my name."

"And, you goose, you never suspected," says she, smiling.

"How was I to suspect that you loved a provincial booby like me, when
you had the choice of so many accomplished gentlemen with titles and
estates?"

"How were you to perceive, indeed, that you had qualities which they
lacked?"

"And you were forever vowing that you would marry a nobleman, my lady.
For you said to me once that I should call you so, and ride in the coach
with the coroneted panels when I came home on a visit."

"And I said, too," retorted Dolly, with mischief in her eyes, "do you
remember what I told you the New Year's eve when we sat out by the
sundial at Carvel Hall, when I was so proud of having fixed Dr.
Courtenay's attentions? I said that I should never marry you, sir, who
was so rough and masterful, and thrashed every lad that did not agree
with you."

"Alas, so you did, and a deal more!" I exclaimed.

With that she broke away from me and, getting to her feet, made me a low
curtsey with the grace that was hers alone.

"You are my Lord and my King, sir," she said, "and my rough Patriot
squire, all in one."

"Are you happy, Dolly?" I asked, tremulous from my own joy.

"I have never been happy in all my life before, Richard dear," she said.

In truth, she was a being transformed, and more wondrous fair than ever.
And even then I pictured her in the brave gowns and jewels I would buy
her when times were mended, when our dear country would be free. All at
once, ere I could draw a breath, she had stooped and kissed me ever so
lightly on the forehead.

The door opened upon Aunt Lucy. She had but to look at us, and her black
face beamed at our blushes. My lady threw her arms about her neck, and
hid her face in the ample bosom.

"Now praise de good Lawd!" cried Mammy; "I knowed it dis longest time.
What's I done tole you, Miss Dolly? What's I done tole you, honey?"

But my lady flew from the room. Presently I heard the spinet playing
softly, and the words of that air came out of my heart from long ago.

"Love me little, love me long,
Is the burthen of my song.
Love that is too hot and strong
Burneth soon to waste.
Still, I would not have thee cold,
Nor too backward, nor too bold.
Love that lasteth till 'tis old
Fadeth not in haste."

CHAPTER LVI

HOW GOOD CAME