David Lindsay received her there and led her at once to the saloon, where the passengers were already at breakfast. She, being the only lady, received much attention. Her seat had been kept for her, and dainties were pressed upon her; but so troubled was her spirit at the prospect of her fate, that she could only swallow a little coffee and make a pretence of eating. When the counterfeit meal was over, she arose from the table, bowed to her fellow-passengers, and left the saloon, attended by David Lindsay. “We may go on shore at once. I had already engaged a carriage when you first came on deck,” said the young man, as he led her across the gang-plank from the wharf, where the hack was waiting. He handed her in, saw her comfortably seated, and followed and placed himself opposite to her. “Where to, if you please, sir?” inquired the hackman, touching his hat, as he held the door open in his hand. “Wait a moment,” replied young Lindsay; and then he bent forward and whispered to Gloria: “You have been here before, and know the place. What hotel do you prefer?” “Uncle and I stopped at Brown’s. It was good enough, I suppose. I know nothing about the others, except that some of them looked better on the outside,” replied Gloria. “Brown’s Hotel,” was the order the young man gave to the hack-driver, who remounted to his box and drove off. David Lindsay had never been in any city in his life, and, therefore, he was much more pleased with his first sight of Washington than strangers usually are. “There is the Capitol!” he exclaimed, looking out of the window on the east side. “I know it by the picture, which is very faithful,” he added. “Yes,” replied Gloria, scarcely knowing what she said, so troubled was her spirit. The youth looked at her wistfully, doubtfully, sorrowfully. Then he dropped his eyes and voice to the deepest expression of reverential tenderness, and said: “Miss de la Vera, do you repent this trust you are about to repose in me? If you do, oh, speak! I am yours to do you service. To secure your happiness in any way I may be permitted to do so! To attend you all through life, if I may be so blessed—or, if not, to take you safely wherever you would go, and leave you forever, if this should be your will,” he added, as his voice broke down with emotion. She answered him by asking another question: “David Lindsay, do you really love me—love me as you said you did that morning after you saved my life, when you did not know I heard you? Say, do you really love me as much as you said then?” she breathed, in accents scarcely audible.