"I should scarce have known him," whispered my lord, "he has changed so. His pallor is gone--it may be love has made him rosy--and he is fuller and plumper. It seems a crying shame to disturb him when he has so sweet a companion." I laughed and said, "You will be easily absolved. To see you again is always his most earnest desire, while, for Mary, you are a hero of romance of whom she dreams often." He looked at me from behind the bush, so that I thought he was wondering if it was to Mary alone such dreams came; and then, saying: "Madam, I fear I shall be made vain here," he begged me to permit him to enter and greet his friend. That greeting it was good to see. Mr. Kinchella gazed for a moment at the stranger entering so abruptly and then, springing to his feet, exclaimed, "Gerald! Gerald!" and folded him in his arms, while Mary, who had also risen hastily, repeated him, crying, "'Gerald!' Is this indeed Lord St. Amande?" "Dear lad, dear heart!" said Mr. Kinchella, who, after his embrace, held the other at arm's length so as to survey him. "It is indeed you! And how you are grown; a man and a handsome one. But how you came here passes my understanding. Yet how I rejoice. How I do rejoice. Oh! Gerald! Gerald! this is a day of days." Then he went on, "Mistress Bampfyld, I see already you know; this other lady is my future wife, Miss Mills," whereon his lordship bowed with most stately grace while Mary curtsied low. "But tell me, tell us," continued her lover, "what brings you here. We knew not, I knew not where you were. The last heard of you was that you had been impressed for the sea and had sailed under Sir Chaloner Ogle, who had testified a kindly disposition to you. But to what part of the world you had sailed, we did not know. Papers reach here but fitfully, and, though a friend of mine does sometimes send me _The London Journal_, owned by that sturdy writer, Mr. Osborne, I have seen nothing that told me of your fleet." "'Tis not so far off now," said his lordship, with his grave smile, "I being at the moment on leave from it. I have adopted the calling of a sailor--what use to haunt the streets of London idly waiting until the House of Lords shall do me justice, if ever?"---there was a bitterness in his tone as he spake that we all well understood--"and I am now master's-mate in the _Namur_, with promise of a lieutenancy from Sir Chaloner. As for the fleet itself, a portion of it is at Halifax and a portion off Boston, while the _Namur_ is at the mouth of the James River waiting to capture some of the pirates that still haunt the spot." "You have a long leave, I hope, Lord St. Amande," I said, though I knew that I blushed, as I did so. "You must not quit Mr. Kinchella for some time, and, in Virginia, we love to show hospitality to our friends or friends' friends."