dmitted it sadly. "But I should be a better husband than Dr.
Courtenay."

"La!" cried she; "I am not thinking of husbands. I shall have a good
time, sir, I promise you, before I marry. And then I should never marry
you. You are much too rough, and too masterful. And you would require
obedience. I shall never obey any man. You would be too strict a
master, sir. I can see it with your dogs and your servants. And your
friends, too. For you thrash any boy who does not agree with you. I
want no rough squire for a husband. And then, you are a Whig. I could
never marry a Whig. You behaved disgracefully at King William's School
last year. Don't deny it!"

"Deny it!" I cried warmly; "I would as soon deny that you are an arrant
flirt, Dorothy Manners, and will be a worse one."

"Yes, I shall have my fling," said the minx. "I shall begin to-night,
with you for an audience. I shall make the doctor look to himself. But
there is the dressing-bell." And as we went into the house, "I believe
my mother is a Whig, Richard. All the Brices are."

"And yet you are a Tory?"

"I am a loyalist," says my lady, tossing her head proudly; "and we are
one day to kiss her Majesty's hand, and tell her so. And if I were the
Queen," she finished in a flash, "I would teach you surly gentlemen not
to meddle."

And she swept up the stairs so stately, that Scipio was moved to say
slyly: "Dem's de kind of ladies, Marse Richard, I jes dotes t' wait on!"

Of the affair at King William's School I shall tell later.

We had some dozen guests staying at the Hall for the ball. At dinner my
grandfather and the gentlemen twitted her, and laughed heartily at her
apt retorts, and even toasted her when she was gone. The ladies shook
their heads and nudged one another, and no doubt each of the mothers had
her notion of what she would do in Mrs. Manners's place. But when my
lady came down dressed for the ball in her pink brocade with the pearls
around her neck, fresh from the hands of Nester and those of her own
tremulous mammy, Mr. Carvel must needs go up to her and hold her at arm's
length in admiration, and then kiss her on both her cheeks. Whereat she
blushed right prettily.

"Bless me!" says he; "and can this be Richard's little playmate grown?
Upon my word, Miss Dolly, you'll be the belle of the ball. Eh, Lloyd?
Bless me, bless me, you must not mind a kiss from an old man. The young
ones may have their turn after a while." He laughed as my grandfather
on