ACE.

Ruth was happy. To-day, and for a whole week to come, she was
determined to be purely happy, blithe as the spring sunshine upon the
terrace. For a week she would, like Walton's milkmaid, cast away
care and refuse to load her mind with any fears of many things that
will never be. Her spirit sang birdlike within her. And the
reason?--that the _Venus_ had arrived in harbour, with Dicky on
board.

Peace had been signed, or was on the point to be signed, and in the
North Atlantic waters His Majesty's captains of frigates could make
a holiday of duty. Captain Harry used his holiday to sail up for
Boston, standing in for Carolina on his way and fetching off his
wife and his firstborn--a bouncing boy. It was time, they agreed,
to pay their ceremonial visit to Sir Oliver and his bride; high
time also for Dicky to return and embrace his father.

Sir Oliver had written of his approaching marriage. "Well, dear,"
was Mrs. Harry's comment, "'twas always certain he would marry. As
for Ruth Josselin, she is an amazingly beautiful girl and I believe
her to be good. So there's no more to be said but to wish 'em joy."

Captain Harry kissed his wife. "Glad you take it so, Sally. I was
half afraid--for of course there _was_ the chance, you know--"

"I'm not a goose, I hope, to cry for the moon!"

"Is that the way of geese?" he asked, and they both laughed.

A second letter had come to them from Eagles, telling them of his
happiness, and franking a note in which Ruth prettily acknowledged
Mrs. Harry's congratulations.

A third had been despatched; a hurried one, announcing his departure
for England. Before this reached Carolina, however, the _Venus_ had
sailed, and Dicky rushed home to find his father gone.

But a message came down to Boston Quay, with the great coach for Mrs.
Vyell, and the baggage and saddle-horses for the gentlemen. There
were three saddle-horses, for Ruth added an invitation for
Mr. Hanmer, "if the discipline of the ship would allow."

"She always was the thoughtfullest!" cried Dicky. "Why, sir, to be
sure you must come too. . . . We'll go shooting. Is it too late for
partridge? . . . One forgets the time of year, down in the islands."

Strangely enough Mr. Hanmer, so shy by habit, offered but a slight
resistance.

It was Dicky who, as Ruth sped to him with a happy little cry, hung
on his heel a moment and blushed violently. She took him in her
arms, exclaiming at his growth.

"