I know she has spoken to Dulany.  Think of it, Richard, my own daughter, upon whom I lavished all when I had it, who might have made a score of grand matches when I gave her the opportunity, and now we had all been rolling in wealth.  I’ll be sworn I don’t comprehend her, nor her mother either, who abets her.  For they prefer to cook Maryland dainties for a living, to put in the hands of the footmen of the ladies whose houses they once visited.  And how much of that money do you suppose I get, sir?  Will you believe it that I—­” (he was shrieking now), “that I, the man of the family, am allowed only my simple meals, a farthing for snuff, and not a groat for chaise-hire?  At my age I am obliged to walk to and from their lordships’ side entrances in patched clothes, egad, when a new suit might obtain us a handsome year’s income!”

I turned my face to the wall, completely overcome, and the tears scalding in my eyes, at the thought of Dorothy and her mother bending over the stove cooking delicacies for their livelihood, and watching at my bedside night and day despite their weariness of body.  And not a word out of these noble women of their sacrifice, nor of the shame and trouble and labour of their lives, who always had been used to every luxury!  Nothing but cheer had they brought to the sickroom, and not a sign of their poverty and hardship, for they knew that their broths and biscuit and jellies must have choked me.  No.  It remained for this contemptible cur of a husband and father to open my eyes.

He had risen when I had brought myself to look at him.  And as I hope for heaven he took my emotion for pity of himself.

“I have worried you enough for one day with my troubles, my lad,” said he.  “But they are very hard to bear, and once in a while it does me good to speak of them.”

I did not trust myself to reply.

It was Aunt Lucy who spent the morning with me, and Mrs. Manners brought my dinner.  I observed a questioning glance as she entered, which I took for an attempt to read whether Mr. Marmaduke had spoke more than he ought.  But I would have bitten off my tongue rather than tell her of my discoveries, though perhaps my voice may have betrayed an added concern.  She stayed to talk on the progress of the war, relating the gallant storming of Stony Point by Mad Anthony in July, and the latest Tory insurrection on our own Eastern Shore.  She passed from these matters to a discussion of General Washington’s new policy of the defensive, for Mrs. Manners had always been at heart a patriot.  And whilst I lay listening with a deep interest, in comes my lady herself.  So was it ever, when you least expected her, even as Mammy had said.  She curtseyed very prettily, with her chin tilted back and her cheeks red, and asked me how I did.

“And where have you been these days gone, Miss Will-o’the-Wisp, since the doctor has given me back my tongue?” I cried.

“I like you better when you are asleep,” says she.  “For then you are sometimes witty, though I doubt not the wit is other people’s.”