laugh,--a laugh that Mrs. Pemberthy seems suddenly to remember,--"for
I have profited thereby."

"Indeed!" says the farmer's widow, for the want of a better answer
at the moment.

"I am a younger son; but all my brothers have been away by wars
or pestilence, and I am "sent" for in hot haste--I, who had shaken
the dust of England from my feet for fifteen years."

"Fifteen years?"

"Almost. Don't you recollect the last time I was in this room?"

"You--in this room, Sir Richard?"

"Yes; try and remember when that was. I only come to look at the
old place and you, just for once, before I go away again. Try and
think, Mistress Pemberthy, as I used to call you"

She looks into the red, sunburnt face, starts, blushes, and looks
away.

"Yes, I remember. You are--"

"Well?"

"Captain Guy!"

"Yes, that is it; Richard Guy Isshaw, younger son, who went wholly