yalist, and she heard, while at the governor's,
that Cromwell was in poor health, and there was a strong feeling that
the exiled Prince Charles would be recalled to the throne. Berkeley had
invited him to Virginia. Many of England's nobles, flying from
Cromwell's persecutions, had taken refuge with ex-Governor Berkeley, and
no other greater pleasure could Dorothe wish than to be associated
with them.

When she returned to her home, it looked poor and mean in comparison
with the governor's excellent manor house; but troubles thickened.
Bills came pouring in upon her, which she was unable to meet, for she
had not a farthing, and her creditors became clamorous.

"Why don't John come back with the money?" she asked, angry tears
starting from her eyes. "I cannot meet these bills, and he knows I
must live."

"You have been grossly extravagant, Mrs. Stevens," one heartless
creditor returned. He was a merchant who had smiled on her most sweetly
in her prosperous days, and had always welcomed her to his shop. "Had
you economized with the money your husband left, you would not be in
such sore straits."

Mrs. Stevens was shocked and indignant. She wept and asked for time. Ann
Linkon, who had never forgiven Dorothe Stevens for the ducking she had
caused her, now boldly declared that she had all along told the truth
and, shaking her gray head, repeated:

"She is a hussy. She hath driven John to sea and perchance to death. She
is a hussy."

No one attempted to prevent Ann's tongue from wagging, and to the
unfortunate Dorothe it was quite evident that she was no longer the
favorite of Jamestown.

"When John comes back, all will change," she thought; but, alas, the
months crept slowly by, and John came not. There came a rumor which
time confirmed that the _Silverwing_ was lost. Dorothe, who was of a
hopeful nature, would not believe it at first, though the news had a
very disastrous effect to her credit. She was refused at every shop and
store in Jamestown. In her distress she sold such articles as she could
dispense with; but Jamestown was only a frontier hamlet, it had no such
conveniences as pawnbrokers and secondhand clothiers, and what few
articles she could dispose of were sold mainly to freed or indented
servants at ruinous prices.

Dorothe's fashionable friends deserted her. The ladies and cavaliers at
Greenspring became suddenly cold and she remained at home. Her slaves
were taken away, so, finally, was the home, an