the tree-tops or drops to sleep,
tired out, behind the old Seymour house, and the girls come out in their
white dresses and silk sashes and the gallants in their nankeens and
pumps and the old life of out-of-doors begins once more.

And these are not the only changes that the coming of spring has
wrought. What has been going on deep down in the tender, expectant
hearts of root and bulb, eager for expression, had been at work in
Harry's own temperament. The sunshine of St. George's companionship has
already had its effect; the boy is thawing out; his shrinking shyness,
born of his recent trouble, is disappearing like a morning frost. He is
again seen at the club, going first under St. George's lee and then on
his own personal footing.

The Chesapeake, so St. George had urged upon him, was the centre of
news--the headquarters, really, of the town, where not only the current
happenings and gossip of Kennedy Square were discussed, but that of the
country at large. While the bald-heads, of course, would be canvassing
the news from Mexico, which was just beginning to have an ugly look, or
having it out, hammer and tongs, over the defeat of Henry Clay, to
which some rabid politicians had never become reconciled, the younger
gentry--men of Harry's own tastes--would be deploring the poor showing
the ducks were making, owing to the up-river freshets which had spoiled
the wild celery; or recounting the doings at Mrs. Cheston's last ball;
or the terrapin supper at Mr. Kennedy's, the famous writer; or perhaps
bemoaning the calamity which had befallen some fellow member who had
just found seven bottles out of ten of his most precious port corked
and worthless. But whatever the topics, or whoever took sides in their
discussion, none of it, so St. George argued, could fail to interest a
young fellow just entering upon the wider life of a man of the world,
and one, of all others, who needed constant companionship. Then again,
by showing himself frequently within its walls, Harry would become
better known and better liked.

That he was ineligible for membership, being years too young, and that
his continued presence, even as a guest, was against the rules, did not
count in his case, or if it did count, no member, in view of what the
lad had suffered, was willing to raise the question. Indeed, St. George,
in first introducing him, had referred to "my friend, Mr. Rutter," as
an "out of town guest," laughing as he did so, everybody lau