It was a fine, old place, typical of Maryland and Annapolis, in the days of the Colony--of her lavishness and good cheer, her hospitality and her courtesy, her gallantry and her fame. Those days have ended--the Eastern and the Western Shores know no more the life that once was theirs. Their glory has departed--their sun has set. Whitehall, and all its fellows, are but the waifs of a dead past. It was otherwise, however, on this August morning, in the year of Grace 1766. The Governor was in presence--and all that life, and action, and a master-hand could effect, were in evidence. His excellency had been down to the race track, for an early morning inspection. The horses had been put through the paces, under his own eyes--and blame and praise were given indiscriminately. He had a rare gift for picking the faults and the perfections in their training, and he let censure fall where due--nor minced his words. "I tell you, Maynadier, Hanover promises well, damned well, indeed!" he said. "He has the wind and the legs of the best of them, or I miss my guess. Sir Edward Parkington is no mean judge of horseflesh; he has seen the fleetest we have at home, and he says Hanover is the king of them all." "I hope he is, Colonel," said Maynadier. "You know, I have nothing entered against him." "And jolly well glad you may be, my boy!" exclaimed the Colonel. "You will have the delight of seeing me win, and the pleasure of not seeing yourself beaten. Speaking of Parkington, what is this I hear of his attentions to Miss Marbury, and having a notion to settle in Maryland. You are more intimate with the Marburys than any one else, is there any truth in it?" "I do not know--on that score, Miss Marbury has not taken me into her confidence." The Governor regarded him questioningly. "Why do you not marry the girl yourself?" he demanded, abruptly. "Give Rose Hill a mistress--it needs one." "I will not gainsay that it needs one," said Maynadier, with an amused smile. "Neither will you gainsay that Judith Marbury would fill the place, admirably. There is style and breeding about that girl, Maynadier. I like her much, damned much! Why should she marry an Englishman? Sir Edward is all right, I suppose--but he has only his manners and Baltimore's letters to vouch for him. And not much credit in the letters, God knows!" Maynadier was puzzled. Could it be the Governor was not aware that Parkington was not Parkington?--was he not in the secret?--was he being imposed on, also? "Sometimes, I have thought," he ventured, "that Parkington is not quite what he seemed--that he is playing a part." "Playing a part!" Colonel Sharpe ejaculated. "I do not understand." Maynadier looked at him, a moment, in silence. "You do not understand?" he asked, slowly. "Do you honestly mean it?" "Mean it! Of course I mean it. What do _you_ mean?" "Have I permission to speak plainly?" "You have," said the Governor--"right from the shoulder. What is it?"