And all this time I was busily wooing Mistress Dolly; but she, little minx, would give me no satisfaction.  I see her standing among the strawberries, her black hair waving in the wind, and her red lips redder still from the stain.  And the sound of her childish voice comes back to me now after all these years.  And this was my first proposal: 

“Dorothy, when you grow up and I grow up, you will marry me, and I shall give you all these strawberries.”

“I will marry none but a soldier,” says she, “and a great man.”

“Then will I be a soldier,” I cried, “and greater than the Governor himself.”  And I believed it.

“Papa says I shall marry an earl,” retorts Dorothy, with a toss of her pretty head.

“There are no earls among us,” I exclaimed hotly, for even then I had some of that sturdy republican spirit which prevailed among the younger generation.  “Our earls are those who have made their own way, like my grandfather.”  For I had lately heard Captain Clapsaddle say this and much more on the subject.  But Dorothy turned up her nose.

“I shall go home when I am eighteen,”—­she said, “and I shall meet his Majesty the King.”

And to such an argument I found no logical answer.

Mr. Marmaduke Manners and his lady came to fetch Dorothy home.  He was a foppish little gentleman who thought more of the cut of his waistcoat than of the affairs of the province, and would rather have been bidden to lead the assembly ball than to sit in council with his Excellency the Governor.  My first recollection of him is of contempt.  He must needs have his morning punch just so, and complained whiningly of Scipio if some perchance were spilled on the glass.  He must needs be taken abroad in a chair when it rained.  And though in the course of a summer he was often at Carvel Hall he never tarried long, and came to see Mr. Carvel’s guests rather than Mr. Carvel.  He had little in common with my grandfather, whose chief business and pleasure was to promote industry on his farm.  Mr. Marmaduke was wont to rise at noon, and knew not wheat from barley, or good leaf from bad; his hands he kept like a lady’s, rendering them almost useless by the long lace on the sleeves, and his chief pastime was card-playing.  It was but reasonable therefore, when the troubles with the mother country began, that he chose the King’s side alike from indolence and contempt for things republican.

Of Mrs. Manners I shall say more by and by.

I took a mischievous delight in giving Mr. Manners every annoyance my boyish fancy could conceive.  The evening of his arrival he and Mr. Carvel set out for a stroll about the house, Mr. Marmaduke mincing his steps, for it had rained that morning.  And presently they came upon the windmill with its long arms moving lazily in the light breeze, near touching the ground as they passed, for the mill was built in the Dutch fashion.  I know not what moved me,