again at the top of the stairs in Arlington Street, and feeling the
dearest presence in the world. The pale oval of Dorothy's face rose
before me and the troubled depths of her blue eyes. And I heard once
more the tremble in her voice as she confessed, in words of which she
took no heed, that love for which I had sought in vain.

The summer dusk was gathering. Outside, under the cherry trees, I saw
Banks holding forth to an admiring circle of negro 'ostlers. And
presently Mr. Claude came in to say that Shaw, the town carpenter, and
Sol Mogg, the ancient sexton of St. Anne's, and several more of my old
acquaintances were without, and begged the honour of greeting me.

CHAPTER XLIV

NOBLESSE OBLIGE

I lay that night in Captain Clapsaddle's lodgings opposite, and slept
soundly. Banks was on hand in the morning to assist at my toilet, and
was greatly downcast when I refused him this privilege, for the first
time. Captain Daniel was highly pleased with the honest fellow's
devotion in following me to America. To cheer him he began to question
him as to my doings in London, and the first thing of which Banks must
tell was of the riding-contest in Hyde Park, which I had omitted. It is
easy to imagine how this should have tickled the captain, who always had
my horsemanship at heart; and when it came to Chartersea's descent into
the Serpentine, I thought he would go into apoplexy. For he had put on
flesh with the years.

The news of my return had spread all over town, so that I had a deal more
handshaking to do when we went to the Coffee House for breakfast. All
the quality were in the country, of course, save only four gentlemen of
the local Patriots' committee, of which Captain Daniel was a member, and
with whom he had an appointment at ten. It was Mr. Swain who arrived
first of the four.

This old friend of my childhood was a quiet man (I may not have
specified), thin, and a little under stature, with a receding but
thoughtful forehead. But he could express as much of joy and welcome in
his face and manner as could Captain Daniel with his heartier ways.

"It does me good to see you, lad," he said, pressing my hand. "I heard
you were home, and sent off an express to Patty and the mother last
night."

"And are they not here?" I asked, with disappointment.

Mr. Swain smiled.

"I have done a rash thing since I saw you, Richard, and bought a little
plantation in Talbot, next to Singleton's. It will be my ruin," h