in such a place?" she asked, turning with a shudder.
"Did you not know you had friends in London, sir?"
Not for so much again would I have told her of Mr. Manners's conduct. So
I stood confused, casting about for a reply with truth in it, when Comyn
broke in upon us.
"I'll warrant you did not look for her here, Richard. Faith, but you are
a lucky dog," said my Lord, shaking his head in mock dolefulness; "for
there is no man in London, in the world, for whom she would descend a
flight of steps, save you. And now she has driven the length of the town
when she heard you were in a sponging-house, nor all the dowagers in
Mayfair could stop her."
"Fie, Comyn," said my lady, blushing and gathering up her skirts; "that
tongue of yours had hung you long since had it not been for your peer's
privilege. Richard and I were brought up as brother and sister, and you
know you were full as keen for his rescue as I."
His Lordship pinched me playfully.
"I vow I would pass a year in the Fleet to have her do as much for me,"
said he.
"But where is the gallant seaman who saved you, Richard?" asked Dolly,
stamping her foot.
"What," I exclaimed; "you know the story?"
"Never mind," said she; "bring him here."
My conscience smote me, for I had not so much as thought of John Paul
since I came into that room. I found him waiting in the passage, and
took him by the hand.
"A lady wishes to know you, captain," I said.
"A lady!" he cried. "Here? Impossible!" And he looked at his clothes.
"Who cares more for your heart than your appearance," I answered gayly,
and led him into the office.
At sight of Dorothy he stopped abruptly, confounded, as a man who
sees a diamond in a dust-heap. And a glow came over me as I said:
"Miss Manners, here is Captain Paul, to whose courage and unselfishness
I owe everything."
"Captain," said Dorothy, graciously extending her hand, "Richard has many
friends. You have put us all in your debt, and none deeper than his old
playmate."
The captain fairly devoured her with his eyes as she made him a curtsey.
But he was never lacking in gallantry, and was as brave on such occasions
as when all the dangers of the deep threatened him. With an elaborate
movement he took Miss Manners's fingers and kissed them, and then swept
the floor with a bow.
"To have such a divinity in my debt, madam, is too much happiness for one
man," he said. "I have done nothing to merit it. A lifetime were all
too s
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