"Care? Of course I care! There, don't say anything more about it. Mother, did they tell you that my life was saved by a—er—a young woman?"
Ah, Richard, where was Barry then?
"A young woman!" exclaimed his mother, peering at him through her lorgnette in her very best Boston manner. "What sort of a person is she?"
"She is not a person at all, mother," he answered, hotly and inconsequentially; "she is a charming young girl, the granddaughter of one of the most distinguished officers in the United States navy. And she is as beautiful as she is brave and good."
"And who may this distinguished man be?" asked his mother, doubtfully.
"Admiral Charles Stewart, of the Constitution."
"Mercy!" she exclaimed. "Is he yet alive? I remember hearing of him when I was a little girl."
"He is very much alive and his granddaughter lives with him over yonder," he answered, pointing out of the window across the bay toward the old white house embowered in the trees on Ship House Point. "That is his home, and he bade me say to you that he would be honored to have you and Josephine accept his hospitality while you are here. He begs to be excused for his apparent discourtesy in not coming to invite you in person, but he is unable to leave the house, he is so old and feeble. His granddaughter, however, will call this afternoon and extend the invitation, if it will be agreeable to you."
"I do not think we should stand on ceremony, Josephine, under the circumstances, and we will go ourselves and call upon the admiral immediately," said Mrs. Revere. "I should like to see this young lady and thank her for Richard. How shall we get there, Dick?"
"I will row you over if you will allow me. There is a road by land, but this is a quicker and pleasanter way."