"True, your ladyship," I said; "the toga does not fit a young man so well as the buckled sabre and glittering epaulets. But now that dull peace has come, the hall of the Legislature is the only place where you can throw the weight of your sword in the conflict and wield some influence in the great struggles of the country; would you have me idle?" "Nay, I would not have that," said Mistress Polly judiciously. "But your round head and big hands are just the things for a fight, and though your voice is--well--can be heard a considerable distance, I am afraid----" She paused, as if doubtful about its being put to any good use in the hall of the Assembly. Decidedly I was getting the worst of it. At this moment Dick Ringgold, who represented Kent with me, came swinging up the street, and, seeing me standing on the steps, hailed me with-- "Hello, Frisby, have you heard the news?" "What news?" "Your old Tory friend Gordon is on the Sally Ann, from London, which has just come up the harbour." "Any one with him?" I asked anxiously. "Well," said Dick, maliciously drawling it out, "I heard some one say there was a young lady with him." I did not stop to protest against the laughter that followed me as I dashed down the street, or to Dick's shout as he called something after me. A few minutes later I was on the wharf. Out in the stream, swaying with the current of the tide, lay the Sally Ann, her tall spars tapering high in air, her decks full of bustle and activity, showing the journey's end and that the final preparations for disembarkation were under full headway. As I arrived a boat was pulling off from her side containing two passengers. As I saw them my heart gave a great bound; my hand went to my hat and swung it around my head. In answer to my signal came the fluttering of a handkerchief. "Sir," said I, as the old Tory stepped ashore, "let me be the first to welcome you back to old Maryland." "Would that all my enemies were like you!" he replied. "I hesitated long about returning, but Jean would have it so." And Mistress Jean said not a word as I took her hand in mine, but her face was mantled in scarlet and her eyes were downcast. The prim old garden of the Nicholsons never looked more charming, the flowers more sweet and beautiful, or the green boxwood hedges more suggestive of rest and repose; the lazy waters of the Chester rolled along at its foot, gently lapping the grass. Ah! the sun was shining on a glorious world that day, for Mistress Jean walked beside me.