r port and politics. John Hatton's hospitality was of a more
modern type, although it still preserved a kind of antique stateliness.
And this night it had a very certain air of a somewhat anxious
amusement. The manufacturers silently wondered as to the condition of
each other's mills, and the landed gentry had in their minds a fear of
the ability of the land to meet the demands that were likely to be made
upon it.

It was a happy turn of feeling that followed an impetuous, unanimous
call for song, and Harry rose in their midst and made the room ring to,

"Ye mariners of England,
That guard our native seas,
Whose flag has braved a thousand years,
The battle and the breeze.

"Britannia needs no bulwarks,
No towers along the steep,
Her march is on the mountain waves,
Her home is on the deep.

"The meteor flag of England!
Shall yet terrific burn,
Till Danger's troubled night depart,
And the Star of Peace return."

The last line spoke for every heart, and the honest, proud, joyous burst
of loyalty and admiration made men and women something more than men
and women for a few glorified moments. Then the satisfied lull that
followed was thrilled anew by that most delicious charmful music ever
written, "O sweetest melody!" This was the event of the evening. It drew
Harry close to every heart. It made his mother the proudest woman in
Yorkshire. It caused John to smile at his brother and to clasp his hand
as he passed him. It charmed Jane and Lucy and they glanced at each
other with wondering pleasure and delight.

After the songs some of the elder guests sat down to a game of whist,
the younger ones danced Money Musk, Squire Beverly and Mrs. Stephen
Hatton leading, while Harry played the old country dance with a snap and
movement that made hearts bound and feet forget that age or rheumatism
were in existence.

At eleven o'clock the party dispersed and the great dinner was over.
Harry had justified it. His mother felt sure of that. He had sung his
way into every heart, and if John was so indifferent about political
honors and office, she could think of no one better to fill Stephen
Hatton's place than his son Harry. Her dreams were all for Harry because
John formed his own plans and usually stood firmly by them, while Harry
was easily persuaded and not averse to see things as others saw them.

The next day Harry wrote a very full account of the dinner and the