“Do come,” said Dora, coaxingly, and foolishly anxious to enjoy the walk with Maurice. “I want so to see them, Sybil dear, do come.” Sybil consented; Mr. Farrington gave her his arm; Mrs. Fielding insisted on her wrapping an additional shawl over her shoulders, to guard her from the night air. Dora said she would like one also, and sent Maurice to find a cashmere she had left in the cloak room. At that moment, Lady Margaret called Dora, who explained that she was waiting for her shawl, and would follow with Sybil and Mr. Farrington; she begged the others not to wait; and Lady Margaret, satisfied that Mr. Farrington, who belonged to their party, should be Dora’s escort, went on; but as Maurice was some minutes finding the proper article, her aunt was quite out of sight before Dora, with Sybil, went after them. Dora was only too happy; the fireworks were nothing to her; but the gentle grace with which she was guarded, and the quiet strength of the arm on which she leaned, were pretty nearly all she cared for in the world at the moment; she would not think of results, or calculate consequences; all she wished was to prolong the pleasant intercourse, dangerous as it might be to future peace. Something was said about his profession, and Maurice expressed his hopes of very soon being employed afloat. Dora started, and inquired, in a faltering voice, if he wanted to go? “Of course I do, in one sense,” was his answer; and even as he spoke he could feel the nervous, tremulous movement of the little hand which rested on his arm. “My first wish is to distinguish myself――to obtain promotion――to rise. One can not do that without serving.” “I suppose honor and glory _ought_ to be a sailor’s first wish?” said Dora, in a slightly disconcerted tone, as if she did not like the thought. “The honor leads to promotion; and on promotion all one’s hopes of domestic happiness, the power of settling in life, making a home of one’s own, and living in it, depend. One must work, deny oneself now, to rest and enjoy hereafter,” was his answer. “Then you will not always be going to sea?” continued she. “I don’t know. Perhaps not.” “Or wishing it? I suppose, then, you would be really glad to get an appointment now――to-morrow――any day?” “Not quite to-morrow, unless Hilary is well first; and come when it will, it is a desperate struggle, Miss Barham, to leave all that is dearest and sweetest on earth for the chances of being tossed about, living among wild and careless companions, exposed to all manner of little trials and vexations, and no woman near to soothe one; no sweet sister to smile one into patience; no sister’s sweeter friend to bewitch one into forgetfulness. Don’t think we are all stones or blocks, because we do our best to put on the look of unconcern, Miss Barham. It often hides a very heavy heart.” “And how soon can you be promoted?” inquired Dora, after a little pause, not feeling herself exactly equal to pursuing the conversation on the same topic.