he aristocratic pride of an hidalgo
shocked by the suggestion of the plebeianism of trade; and she would not
consent to the revelation. But the general's prediction was fulfilled
sooner than might have been expected.

For, after they were married, Don Miguel decided to visit the Atlantic
coast on the wedding journey; and one of the first notable places they
reached was, of course, New York. Don Miguel was delighted, and was
never weary of strolling up Fifth Avenue and down Broadway, with his
beautiful wife on his arm. He marvelled at the vast white pile of
the Fifth Avenue Hotel; he frowned at the Worth Monument; he stared
inexhaustibly into the shop-windows; he exclaimed with admiration at
the stupendous piles of masonry which contained the goods of New York's
merchant princes. It seemed to be his opinion that the possessors of so
much palpable wealth must be the true aristocracy of the country.

And one afternoon it happened that as they were strolling along
Broadway, between Twenty-third Street and Union Square, and were
crossing one of the side-streets, a horse belonging to one of Lord and
Taylor's delivery-wagons became frightened, and bolted round the corner.
One of the hind wheels of the vehicle came in contact with Grace's
shoulder, and knocked her down. The blow and the fall stunned her. Don
Miguel's grief and indignation were expressed with tropical energy; and
a by-stander said, "Better carry her into the store, mister; it's their
wagon run her down, and they can't do less than look after her."

The counsel seemed reasonable, and Don Miguel, with the assistance of
a policeman, lifted his wife and bore her into the stately shop. One
of the floor-walkers met them at the door; he cast a glance at their
burden, and exclaimed, "Why, it's Miss Parsloe!" And immediately a
number of the employees gathered round, all regarding her with interest
and sympathy, all anxious to help, and--which was what mystified Don
Miguel--all calling her by name! How came they to know Grace Parsloe?
Nay, they even glanced at Don Miguel, as if to ask what was HIS business
with the beautiful unconscious one!

"This lady are my wife," he said, with dignity. "She not any more Miss
Parsloe."

"Oh, Grace has got married!" exclaimed the young ladies, one to another;
and then an elderly man, evidently in authority, came forward and said,
"I suppose you are aware, sir, that Miss Parsloe was formerly one of our
girls here; and a very clever