"I congratulate you, Richard," said Josephine, "and I do it honestly, too. Emily and I are destined to be great friends, I am sure." "Oh, Mrs. Revere," said Emily, her eyes filled with tears, she could not tell exactly why, "you have made me so happy! I know I have many things to learn, but with you to teach me and Mr. Revere to help me----" "And me, too," interrupted Josephine; "don't forget me!" "Yes, and you, I am sure I shall learn, and I shall try very hard to be what you want me to be and what I ought to be." "Be your own sweet self, dear," said the older lady, patting her approvingly, "and you will do." "Emily, bring me the sword of the _Constitution_," said the admiral. "Richard, lad, I give it to you," he added, as it was handed to him by the girl. "May you wear it always in defence of our beloved country, holding it ever at her service, defending the honor of her flag. After Emily it is my chiefest treasure, young sir. It has gone with me on many a cruise. I have worn it, not without some honor, too, in battles and on dangerous service. I give it gladly into your hands, as I give you Emily. I know you will wear the one honorably and treat the other lovingly. When you look upon it, when your children gather about your knee and marvel at its quaintness, mark the rudeness of the hilt in contrast to its jewelled scabbard and brilliant blade, tell them of me, who shall never see them. Tell them the story of '_Old Ironsides_' and the last of the fighting captains of the _Constitution_." "Sir," said Revere, as the old man solemnly pressed his lips to the iron guard and extended the sword to him, "I take it as a knight of old received the accolade; and, as the men of the past did, I swear upon the hilt of the sword that I will be everything a man ought to be to a woman, to your granddaughter,--and more." At this moment Revere's man rode up to the porch, dismounted, touched his hat, and held out a letter, reporting,-- "I did not find them, sir." "They are here, Baker. I'll take the letter. Say nothing about it to any one, and then go back to the inn and arrange to bring the trunks of the two ladies over here." Revere had descended to the foot of the steps to meet the man, and he had spoken softly when referring to the letter, so that all the party on the porch heard of the colloquy was the direction about the baggage. Nor had any of them, except Emily, seen the man hand him the letter. With it in his hand, Revere walked up the steps and handed it to his betrothed without a word. A glance told her that it was addressed to Josephine Remington, and Emily understood instantly that it was the famous letter about which they had quarrelled.