Dick was overwhelmed with congratulations, and Mrs. Death cast grateful glances at him, and wistful glances at her old friends and neighbours. They answered the mute appeal by thronging about her. To her they said, "Never you mind, my dear, we'll see you righted." And to Dick, "You spoke up like a man, sir, and we're proud of you." Which he capped, rather vaguely, by retorting, "I'm proud of _you_. You're the sort of women that have made England what it is. Wives and mothers, that's what _you_ are." A shrill voice called out, "Not all of us, sir," amid shouts of laughter, which caused Dick to add, "Then I hope you soon _will_ be." This happy rejoinder won him the admiring glances of all the single women, many of whom (as yet unattached) breathed silent aspirations that heaven would send them such a man. At the worst of times Dick was a good-looking young fellow; seen now at his best, glowing with fervour, and espousing the cause of the weak, he was positively handsome. What wonder that maiden hearts were fluttering! He could have picked and chosen. Dr. Vinsen had been an amused witness of the encounter. "My young friend," he said, "my dear young friend, victorious again, always victorious; and in eloquence a Demosthenes. Accept my congratulations. Mrs. Death, take your little girl home and put her to bed, then apply a hot linseed poultice. I will call upon you to-morrow morning. Mr. Dick Remington--pardon the familiarity, but Dick is so appropriate--I salute you--sal-ute you." Dick nodded good-day, and turned off with Gracie. "Oh, Dick," she said, fondling his hand, "you're splendid, splendid!" No knight of chivalry in "the good old times" (which were much worse than the present) ever inspired deeper admiration in the breast of lady fair than Dick did in the breast of this poor little waif. "I told you, mother, it would be all right if we had Dick with us." "Yes, you did, dear." "Don't I wish I was old enough to walk out with you!" said Gracie. "How do you know I'm not a married man, Gracie?" he asked. "Go along!" she replied, with a touch of scorn. "As if I don't know the married ones by only looking at 'em!" "You mustn't mind her foolishness, sir," said Mrs. Death. "She says the silliest things! We're very grateful to you, sir." "Oh, nonsense," he said, "anyone else would have done the same." "They wouldn't," said Gracie. "They couldn't." With a kind pressure of their hands he turned in the direction of Aunt Rob's house, where a very different task awaited him. CHAPTER XXX. REGINALD'S MAN OF BUSINESS.