murmured in the softest of tones, in the most English of silken
accents, by the most beautiful of young ladies. She occupied the
client's chair in Merton's office, and, as she sat there and smiled,
Merton acknowledged to himself that he had never met a client so charming
and so perplexing.

Miss McCabe had been educated, as Merton knew, at an aristocratic Irish
convent in Paris, a sanctuary of old names and old creeds. This was the
plan of her late father (spoken of by her as Pappa), an educational
reformer of eccentric ideas, who, though of ancient (indeed royal) Irish
descent, was of American birth. The young lady had thus acquired abroad,
much against her will, that kind of English accent which some of her
countrywomen reckon 'affected.' But her intense patriotism had induced
her to study, in the works of American humourists, and to reproduce in
her discourse, the flowers of speech of which a specimen has been
presented. The national accent was beyond her, but at least she could be
true to what she (erroneously) believed to be the national idiom.

'Your case is peculiar,' said Merton thoughtfully, 'and scarcely within
our province. As a rule our clients are the parents, guardians, or
children of persons entangled in undesirable engagements. But you, I
understand, are dissatisfied with the matrimonial conditions imposed by
the will of the late Mr. McCabe?'

'I want to take my own pick out of the crowd--' said Miss McCabe.

'I can readily understand,' said Merton, bowing, 'that the throng of
wooers is enormous,' and he vaguely thought of Penelope.

'The scheme will be popular. It will hit our people right where they
live,' said Miss McCabe, not appropriating the compliment. 'You see
Pappa struck ile early, and struck it often. He was what our Howells
calls a "multimillionaire," and I'm his only daughter. Pappa loved _me_,
but he loved the people better. Guess Pappa was not mean, not worth a
cent. He was a white man!'

Miss McCabe, with a glow of lovely enthusiasm, contemplated the
unprecedented whiteness of the paternal character.

'"What the people want," Pappa used to say, "is education. They want it
short, and they want it striking." That was why he laid out five
millions on his celebrated Museum of Freaks, with a staff of competent
professors and lecturers. "The McCabe Museum of Natural Varieties,
lectures and all, is open gratuitously to the citizens of our Republic,
and to intelligent forei