rced to stop from pain.

"Come, my hearty," says Jack, "you owe me nothing for fishing you out of
Holland--that is her debt. But I declare that you must one day pay me
for saving her for you. What! have I not always sworn that she loved
you? Did I not pull you into the coffee-room of the Star and Garter
years ago, and tell you that same?"

My face warmed, though I said nothing.

"Oh, you sly dog! I'll warrant there has been many a tender talk just
where I'm sitting."

"Not one," said I.

"'Slife, then, what have you been doing," he cries, "seeing her every day
and not asking her to marry you, my master of Carvel Hall?"

"Since I am permitted to use my tongue, she has not come near me, save
when I slept," I answered ruefully.

"Nor will she, I'll be sworn," says he, shaken with laughter.

"'Ods, have you no invention? Egad, you must feign sleep, and seize her
unawares."

I did not inform his Lordship how excellent this plan seemed to me.

"And I possessed the love of such a woman, Richard," he said, in another
tone, "I think I should die of happiness. She will never tell you how
these weeks past she has scarce left your side. The threats combined
of her mother and the doctor, and Charles and me, would not induce her
to take any sleep. And time and time have I walked from here to Brook
Street without recognizing a step of the way, lifted clear out of myself
by the sight of her devotion."

What was my life, indeed, that such a blessing should come into it!

"When the crash came," he continued, "'twas she took command, and 'tis
God's pity she had not done so long before. Mr. Marmaduke was pushed to
the bottom of the family, where he belongs, and was given only
snuff-money. She would give him no opportunity to contract another debt,
and even charged Charles and me to loan him nothing. Nor would she
receive aught from us, but" (he glanced at me uneasily)--"but she and
Mrs. Manners must take to cooking delicacies--"

"Yes, yes, I know," I faltered.

"What! has the puppy told you?" cried he.

I nodded. "He was in here this morning, with his woes."

"And did he speak of the bargain he tried to make with our old friend,
his Grace of Chartersea?"

"He tried to sell her again?" I cried, my breath catching. "I have
feared as much since I heard of their misfortunes."

"Yes," replied Comyn, "that was the first of it. 'Twas while they were
still in Arlington Street, and before Mrs. Manners and Dorothy knew.
Mr. M