“No one more cordially agrees with you than myself on the point to which you give emphasis, madam,” said Goldsmith. “And you think that Mary will see Colonel Gwyn when she returns?” “I hope so; and therefore I hope, dear sir, that you will exert yourself so that the bloom will be brought back to her cheeks,” said the lady. “That is your duty, Doctor; remember that, I pray. You are to bring back the bloom to her cheeks in order that Colonel Gwyn may be doubly attracted to her.” “I understand--I understand.” He spoke slowly, gravely. “I knew you would help us,” said Mrs. Horneck, “and so I hope that you will lose no time in coming to us after Mary's return to-morrow. Your Jessamy Bride will, I trust, be a real bride before many days have passed.” Yes, that was his duty: to help Mary to happiness. Not for him, not for him was the bloom to be brought again to her cheeks--not for him, but for another man. For him were the sleepless nights, the anxious days, the hours of thought--all the anxiety and all the danger resulting from facing an unscrupulous scoundrel. For another man was the joy of putting his lips upon the delicate bloom of her cheeks, the joy of taking her sweet form into his arms, of dwelling daily in her smiles, of being for evermore beside her, of feeling hourly the pride of so priceless a possession as her love. That was his thought as he walked along the Strand with bent head; and yet, before he had reached the Crown and Anchor, he said-- “Even so; I am satisfied--I am satisfied.” It chanced that Dr. Johnson was in the tavern with Steevens, and Goldsmith persuaded both to join his party. He was glad that he succeeded in doing so, for he had felt it was quite possible that Baretti might inquire of him respecting the object of Jackson's visit to Brick Court, and he could not well explain to the Italian the nature of the enterprise which he had so successfully carried out by the aid of Mrs. Abington. It was one thing to take Mrs. Abington into his confidence, and quite another to confide in Baretti. He was discriminating enough to be well aware of the fact that, while the secret was perfectly safe in the keeping of the actress, it would be by no means equally so if confided to Baretti, although some people might laugh at him for entertaining an opinion so contrary to that which was generally accepted by the world, Mrs. Abington being a woman and Baretti a man. He had perceived long ago that Baretti was extremely anxious to learn all about Jackson--that he was wondering how he, Goldsmith, should have become mixed up in a matter which was apparently of imperial importance, for at the mention of the American rebels Baretti had opened his eyes. He was, therefore, glad that the talk at the table was so general as to prevent any allusion being made to the incidents of the day.