h high-bred
courtesy Lothaw forbore to interfere until the carriage was overturned,
the occupants thrown out, and the runaways secured by the servants,
when he advanced and offered the lady the exclusive use of his Oxford
stables.

Turning upon him a face whose perfect Hellenic details he remembered,
she slowly dragged a gentleman from under the wheels into the light and
presented him with ladylike dignity as her husband, Major-General
Camperdown, an American.

"Ah," said Lothaw, carelessly, "I believe I have some land there. If I
mistake not, my agent, Mr. Putney Giles, lately purchased the State
of--Illinois--I think you call it."

"Exactly. As a former resident of the city of Chicago, let me
introduce myself as your tenant."

Lothaw bowed graciously to the gentleman, who, except that he seemed
better dressed than most Englishmen, showed no other signs of
inferiority and plebeian extraction.

"We have met before," said Lothaw to the lady as she leaned on his arm,
while they visited his stables, the University, and other places of
interest in Oxford. "Pray tell me, what is this new religion of yours?"

"It is Woman Suffrage, Free Love, Mutual Affinity, and Communism.
Embrace it and me."

Lothaw did not know exactly what to do. She however soothed and
sustained his agitated frame and sealed with an embrace his speechless
form. The General approached and coughed slightly with gentlemanly
tact.

"My husband will be too happy to talk with you further on this
subject," she said with quiet dignity, as she regained the General's
side. "Come with us to Oneida. Brook Farm is a thing of the past."

CHAPTER VI.

As Lothaw drove toward his country-seat, "The Mural Enclosure," he
observed a crowd, apparently of the working class, gathered around a
singular-looking man in the picturesque garb of an Ethiopian serenader.
"What does he say?" inquired Lothaw of his driver.

The man touched his hat respectfully and said, "My Mary Ann."

"'My Mary Ann!'" Lothaw's heart beat rapidly. Who was this mysterious
foreigner? He had heard from Lady Coriander of a certain Popish plot;
but could he connect Mr. Camperdown with it?

The spectacle of two hundred men at arms who advanced to meet him at
the gates of The Mural Enclosure drove all else from the still youthful
and impressible mind of Lothaw. Immediately behind them, on the steps
of the baronial halls, were ranged his retainers, led by the chief cook
and bottl