diom which he had learned
when he was presented at the court of Louis the Sixteenth, "has surely
not driven down from New Rochelle this morning? That would tax even her
powers."

Madam Des Anges did not smile--she had no taste for smiling--but she
bridled amiably.

"No, Mr. Dolph," she replied; "I have been staying with my
daughter-in-law, at her house at King's Bridge, and I have come to town
to put my little granddaughter to school. She is to have the privilege
of being a pupil of Mme. Dumesnil."

Madam Des Anges indicated the little girl with a slight movement, as
though she did not wish to allow the child more consideration than a
child deserved. The little girl turned a great pair of awed eyes, first
on her grandmother, and then on the gentlemen, and spoke no word. Young
Jacob Dolph stared hard at her, and then contemplated his kerseymeres
with lazy satisfaction. He had no time for girls. And a boy who had his
breeches made in London was a boy of consequence, and need not concern
himself about every one he saw.

"And this is your son, I make no doubt," went on Madam Des Anges; "you
must bring him to see us at King's Bridge, while we are so near you.
These young people should know each other."

Mr. Dolph said he would, and showed a becoming sense of the honor of the
invitation; and he made young Jacob say a little speech of thanks, which
he did with a doubtful grace; and then Mr. Dolph sent his compliments to
Madam Des Anges' daughter-in-law, and Madam Des Anges sent her
compliments to Mrs. Dolph, and there was more stately bowing, and the
carriage lumbered on, with the little girl looking timorously out of the
window, her great eyes fixed on the yellow kerseymeres, as they twinkled
up the street.

"Papa," said young Jacob, as they turned the corner of Ann Street, "when
may I go to a boys' school? I'm monstrous big to be at Mrs. Kilmaster's.
And I don't like to be a girl-boy."

"Are you a girl-boy?" inquired his father, smiling.

"Aleck Cameron called me one yesterday. He said I was a girl-boy because
I went to dame-school. He called me Missy, too!" the boy went on, with
his breast swelling.

[Illustration]

"We'll see about it," said Mr. Dolph, smiling again; and they walked on
in silence to Mrs. Kilmaster's door, where he struck the knocker, and a
neat mulatto girl opened the narrow door. Then he patted his boy on the
head and bade him good-by for the morning, and told him to be a good boy
at school.