Women, wine, gambling, and fighting had given me the best of all the evils they had to offer.

Was I now to drop that valorous life, which men so ardently seek, and was I to take up a browsing, kinelike existence at Haddon Hall, there to drone away my remaining days in fat'ning, peace, and quietude?
I could not answer my own question, but this I knew: that Sir George Vernon was held in high esteem by Elizabeth, and I felt that his house was, perhaps, the only spot in England where my head could safely lie.

I also had other plans concerning Sir George and his household which I regret to say I imparted to Sir John in the sack-prompted outpouring of my confidence.

The plans of which I shall now speak had been growing in favor with me for several months previous to my enforced departure from Scotland, and that event had almost determined me to adopt them.

Almost, I say, for when I approached Haddon Hall I wavered in my resolution.
At the time when I had last visited Sir George at Haddon, his daughter Dorothy--Sir George called her Doll--was a slipshod girl of twelve.