veranda door, and commissioned him to make use of it. Senator Hanway
said that he did not wish to subject one whom he valued so highly, and
who was on such near terms with his good friend, Mr. Gwynn, to the slow
ceremony which attended a regular invasion of the premises.

Richard thanked Senator Hanway, although he could have liked it better
had he been less thoughtfully polite. Richard would have preferred the
main floor, with whatever delay and formal clatter such entrance made
imperative. The more delay and the more clatter, the more chance of
seeing Dorothy. It struck him with a dubious chill when Senator Hanway
suddenly distinguished him with the freedom of that veranda door--a
franchise upon which your statesman laid flattering emphasis, saying
that not ten others had been granted it.

This episode of the veranda door befell upon the earliest visit which
Richard made in his quality of correspondent of the _Daily Tory_. On
that day, being admitted by way of the Harley front door, Richard had
the felicity of coming in with the before-mentioned daily sheaf of
roses. Richard and the blossom-bearing colored youth entered together,
the door making the one opening to admit both; and by this fortunate
chance--which Richard the wily had waited around the corner to
secure--he was given the joy of seeing and hearing the beautiful Dorothy
gurgle over the flowers.

"And to think," cried Dorothy, her nose in the bosom of a rose, "no one
knows from whom they come! Mamma thinks Count Storri sends them. It's so
good of him, if he does!"

Dorothy's head was bowed over the flowers. As she spoke, however, her
blue eye, full of mischief, watched Richard through a silken lock of