“We are not going, Richard,” she replied; “Dorothy will not hear of it.  In spite of the doctor she says she is not ill, and must attend at Vauxhall, too.  You are asked?”

I said that Mr. Storer had included me.  I am sure, from the way she looked at me, that she did not heed my answer.  She appeared to hesitate on the verge of a speech, and glanced once or twice at the doors.

“Richard, I suppose you are old enough to take care of yourself, tho’ you seem still a child to me.  I pray you will be careful, my boy,” she said, with something of the affection she had always borne me, “for your grandfather’s sake, I pray you will run into no more danger.  I—­we are your old friends, and the only ones here to advise you.”

She stopped, seemingly, to weigh the wisdom of what was to come next, while I leaned forward with an eagerness I could not hide.  Was she to speak of the Duke of Chartersea?  Alas, I was not to know.  For at that moment Dorothy came back to inquire why I was not gone to the cudgelling at the Three Hats.  I said I had been invited to stay to dinner.

“Why, I have writ a note asking Comyn,” said she.  “Do you think the house will hold you both?”

His Lordship came in as we were sitting down, bursting with some news, and he could hardly wait to congratulate Dolly on her recovery before he delivered it.

“Why, Richard,” says the dog, “what do you think some wag has done now?  They believe at Brooks’s ’twas that jackanapes of a parson, Dr. Warner, who was there yesterday with March.”  He drew a clipping from his pocket.  “Listen, Miss Dolly: 

       “On Wednesday did a carter see
        His Grace, the Duke of Ch-rt—­s-a,
        As plump and helpless as a bag,
        A-straddle of a big-boned nag. 
        “Lord, Sam!” the carter loudly yelled,
        On by this wondrous sight impelled,
        “We’ll run and watch this noble gander
        Master a steed, like Alexander.” 
        But, when the carter reached the Row,
        His Grace had left it, long ago. 
        Bucephalus had leaped the green,
        The duke was in the Serpentine. 
        The fervent wish of all good men
        That he may ne’er come out again!’”

Comyn’s impudence took my breath, tho’ the experiment interested me not a little.  My lady was pleased to laugh at the doggerel, and even Mrs. Manners.  Its effect upon Mr. Marmaduke was not so spontaneous.  His smile was half-hearted.  Indeed, the little gentleman seemed to have lost his spirits, and said so little (for him), that I was encouraged to corner him that very evening and force him to a confession.  But I might have known he was not to be caught.  It appeared almost as if he guessed my purpose, for as soon as ever the claret was come on, he excused himself, saying he was promised to Lady Harrington, who wanted one.

Comyn and I departed early on account of Dorothy.  She had denied a dozen who had left cards upon her.