"And you were breaking your heart, that is easy to be seen. He has gone, but he will come back to-night at eight o'clock. No matter what happens, be at the river-side. Do not fail Dick: he is taking his life in his hand to see you."
"I will be there."
"La! what are you crying for, child? Poor girl! What are you crying for? Dick, the scamp? He is not worthy of such pure tears; and yet, believe me, he loves you to distraction."
"I thought he had gone—gone, without a word."
"Faith, you are not complimentary! I flatter myself that our Dick is a gentleman. I do, indeed. And, as he is yet perfectly in his senses, you might have trusted him."
"And you, do you go to Boston to-morrow?"
"The colonel does. At present, I have no such intentions. But I had to have some extraordinary excuse, and I could invent no other. However, you may say anything, if you only say it with an assurance. Madam wished me a pleasant journey. I felt a little sorry to deceive so fine a lady."
"When will Richard return?"
"Indeed, I think you will have to answer for his resolves. But he will speak for himself; and, in faith, I told him that he had come to a point where I would be no longer responsible for his actions. I am thankful to own that I have some conscience left."
The ride was not a very pleasant one. Katherine could not help feeling that Mrs. Gordon was distrait and inconsistent; and, towards its close, she became very silent. Yet she kissed her kindly, and drawing her closely for a last word, said, "Do not forget to wear your wadded cloak and hood. You may have to take the water; for the councillor is very suspicious, let me tell you. Remember what I say,—the wadded cloak and hood; and good-by, good-by, my dear."