hope of meeting some of its votaries. For I
had told him, casually as possible, that I had friends in Arlington
Street, where I remembered the Manners were established.

"Arlington Street!" he repeated, rolling the words over his tongue; "it
has a fine sound, laddie, a fine sound. That street must be the very
acme of fashion."

I laughed, and replied that I did not know. And at the ordinary of the
next inn we came to, he took occasion to mention to me, in a louder voice
than was necessary, that I would do well to call in Arlington Street as
we went into town. So far as I could see, the remark did not compel any
increase of respect from our fellow-diners.

Upon more than one point I was worried. Often and often I reflected that
some hitch might occur to prevent my getting money promptly from Mr. Dix.
Days would perchance elapse before I could find the man in such a great
city as London; he might be out of town at this season, Easter being less
than a se'nnight away. For I had heard my grandfather say that the elder
Mr. Dix had a house in some merchant's suburb, and loved to play at being
a squire before he died. Again (my heart stood at the thought), the
Manners might be gone back to America. I cursed the stubborn pride which
had led the captain to hire a post-chaise, when the wagon had served us
so much better, and besides relieved him of the fusillade of ridicule he
got travelling as a gentleman. But such reflections always ended in my
upbraiding myself for blaming him whose generosity had rescued me from
perhaps a life-long misery.

But, on the whole, we rolled southward happily, between high walls and
hedges, past trim gardens and fields and meadows, and I marvelled at the
regular, park-like look of the country, as though stamped from one design
continually recurring, like our butter at Carvel Hall. The roads were
sometimes good, and sometimes as execrable as a colonial byway in winter,
with mud up to the axles. And yet, my heart went out to this country,
the home of my ancestors. Spring was at hand; the ploughboys whistled
between the furrows, the larks circled overhead, and the lilacs were
cautiously pushing forth their noses. The air was heavy with the perfume
of living things.

The welcome we got at our various stopping-places was often scanty
indeed, and more than once we were told to go farther down the street,
that the inn was full. And I may as well confess that my mind was
troubled about John Paul. Des