As Whitford drew nigh the supper-room the sounds of boisterous mirth struck on his ears and stirred him like the rattle of a drum.

The heaviness went out of his limbs, his pulse beat more quickly, he felt a new life in his veins.

As he passed in his name was called in a gay voice that he did not at first recognize, and at the same moment a handsome young girl with flushed face and sparkling eyes came hastily toward him, and drawing her hand in his arm, said, in a loud familiar tone: "You shall be my knight, Sir Ellis." And she almost dragged him down the room to where half a dozen girls and young men were having a wordy contest about something.

He was in the midst of the group before he really understood who the young lady was that had laid such violent hands upon him.

He then recognized her as the daughter of a well-known merchant.