ide, I summoned courage and asked a butcher's lad, whistling as he
passed me, whether he could point out the residence of Mr. Manners.

"Ay," he replied, looking me over out of the corner of his eye, "that I
can. But y'ell not get a glimpse o' the beauty this day, for she's but
just off to Kensington with a coachful o' quality."

And he led me, all in a tremble over his answer, to a large stone
dwelling with arched windows, and pillared portico with lanthorns and
link extinguishers, an area and railing beside it. The flavour of
generations of aristocracy hung about the place, and the big knocker on
the carved door seemed to regard with such a forbidding frown my shabby
clothes that I took but the one glance (enough to fix it forever in my
memory), and hurried on. Alas, what hope had I of Dorothy now!

"What cheer, Richard?" cried the captain when I returned; "have you seen
your friends?"

I told him that I had feared to disgrace them, and so refrained from
knocking--a decision which he commended as the very essence of wisdom.
Though a desire to meet and talk with quality pushed him hard, he would
not go a step to the ordinary, and gave orders to be served in our room,
thus fostering the mystery which had enveloped us since our arrival.
Dinner at the Star and Garter being at the fashionable hour of half after
four, I was forced to give over for that day the task of finding Mr. Dix.

That evening--shall I confess it?--I spent between the Green Park and
Arlington Street, hoping for a glimpse of Miss Dolly returning from
Kensington.

The next morning I proclaimed my intention of going to Mr. Dix.

"Send for him," said the captain. "Gentlemen never seek their men of
affairs."

"No," I cried; "I can contain myself in this place no longer. I must be
moving."

"As you will, Richard," he replied, and giving me a queer, puzzled look
he settled himself between the Morning Post and the Chronicle.

As I passed the servants in the lower hall, I could not but remark an
altered treatment. My friend the chamberlain, more pompous than ever,
stood erect in the door with a stony stare, which melted the moment he
perceived a young gentleman who descended behind me. I heard him cry out
"A chaise for his Lordship!" at which command two of his assistants ran
out together. Suspicion had plainly gripped his soul overnight, and
this, added to mortified vanity at having been duped, was sufficient for
him to allow me to leave the inn una