of the
shipping, with sails neatly furled, lying at the long wharves, where the
English wares Mr. Carvel had commanded for the return trips were
unloading. Scarce was the pinnace brought into the wind before I had
leaped ashore and greeted with a shout the Hall servants drawn up in a
line on the green, grinning a welcome. Dorothy and I scampered over the
grass and into the cool, wide house, resting awhile on the easy sloping
steps within, hand in hand. And then away for that grand tour of
inspection we had been so long planning together. How well I recall that
sunny afternoon, when the shadows of the great oaks were just beginning
to lengthen. Through the greenhouses we marched, monarchs of all we
surveyed, old Porphery, the gardener, presenting Mistress Dolly with a
crown of orange blossoms, for which she thanked him with a pretty
courtesy her governess had taught her. Were we not king and queen
returned to our summer palace? And Spot and Silver and Song and Knipe,
the wolf-hound, were our train, though not as decorous as rigid etiquette
demanded, since they were forever running after the butterflies. On we
went through the stiff, box-bordered walks of the garden, past the
weather-beaten sundial and the spinning-house and the smoke-house to the
stables. Here old Harvey, who had taught me to ride Captain Daniel's
pony, is equerry, and young Harvey our personal attendant; old Harvey
smiles as we go in and out of the stalls rubbing the noses of our trusted
friends, and gives a gruff but kindly warning as to Cassandra's heels.
He recalls my father at the same age.

Jonas Tree, the carpenter, sits sunning himself on his bench before the
shop, but mysteriously disappears when he sees us, and returns presently
with a little ship he has fashioned for me that winter, all complete with
spars and sails, for Jonas was a shipwright on the Severn in the old
country before he came as a king's passenger to the new. Dolly and I
are off directly to the backwaters of the river, where the new boat is
launched with due ceremony as the Conqueror, his Majesty's latest
ship-of-the-line. Jonas himself trims her sails, and she sets off right
gallantly across the shallows, heeling to the breeze for all the world
like a real man-o'-war. Then the King would fain cruise at once against
the French, but Queen Dorothy must needs go with him. His Majesty points
out that when fighting is to be done, a ship of war is no place for a
woman, whereat her Maj