ase and comfort that had once been hers, should God bring us safe
back to Maryland. The change in her was little less than a marvel to me,
when I remembered the wilful miss who had come to London bent upon
pleasure alone. Truly, she was of that rare metal which refines, and
then outshines all others. And there was much I could not understand.
A miracle had saved her from the Duke of Chartersea, but why she had
refused so many great men and good was beyond my comprehension. Not a
glimpse of her did I get that day, though my eyes wandered little from
the knob of the door. And even from Aunt Lucy no satisfaction was to be
had as to the cause of her absence.

"'Clare to goodness, Marse Dick," said she, with great solemnity, "'clare
to goodness, I'se nursed Miss Dolly since she was dat high, and neber one
minnit obher life is I knowed what de Chile gwine t' do de next. She
ain't neber yit done what I calcelated on."

The next morning, after the doctor had dressed my wounds and bantered me
to his heart's content, enters Mr. Marmaduke Manners. I was prodigiously
struck by the change in him, and pitied him then near as much as I had
once despised him. He was arrayed in finery, as of old. But the finery
was some thing shabby; the lace was frayed at the edges, there was a neat
but obvious patch in his small-clothes, and two more in his coat. His
air was what distressed me most of all, being that of a man who spends
his days seeking favours and getting none. I had seen too many of the
type not to know the sign of it.

He ran forward and gave me his hand, which I grasped as heartily as my
weakness would permit.

"They would not let me see you until to-day, my dear Richard," he
exclaimed. "I bid you welcome to what is left of our home. 'Tis not
Arlington Street, my lad."

"But more of a home than was that grander house, Mr. Manners."

He sighed heavily.

"Alas!" said he, "poverty is a bitter draught, and we have drunk deep of
it since last we beheld you. My great friends know me no more, and will
not take my note for a shilling. They do not remember the dinners and
suppers I gave them. Faith, this war has brought nothing but misery,
and how we are to get through it, God knows!"

Now I understood it was not the war, but Mr. Marmaduke himself, which had
carried his family to this pass. And some of my old resentment
rekindled.

"I know that I have brought you great additional anxiety and expense,
Mr. Manners," I answered som