Hanway-Harley was deservedly certain of that. While this came to her
mind, Richard the enterprising went laying plans for the daily
desolation of an entire greenhouse.

"Dorothy," observed Mrs. Hanway-Harley, after Richard had gone his way,
"there you have a young man remarkable for two things: his dullness and
his effrontery. Did you hear how he spoke of his benefactor? The wretch!
After all that good, poor Mr. Gwynn has done for him!"

"How do you know what Mr. Gwynn has done for him?"

Dorothy, while she confessed the justice of her mother's strictures,
felt uncommonly inclined to defend the absent one. Her memory of those
tender glances was coming back.

"Why, it is all over town! Mr. Storms is dependent on Mr. Gwynn. By the
way, I hope Count Storri did not meet him?" This was given in the rising
inflection of a query.

"Only for a moment," returned Dorothy, breaking into a little crow of
laughter. "The Count did not seem to like him." Dorothy thought of that
combat of the hands, and how Storri was beaten to his knee, and how
fiercely glorious Richard looked at that instant.

"What should you expect?" observed Mrs. Hanway-Harley. "The Count is a
nobleman. And that reminds me: Dorothy, he appears a bit smitten. What
if it were to prove serious?"

"You wouldn't have me marry him, mamma?"