ke. "As for mere adventures, what are they? Squalls that never
interfere with the voyage,--not even worth entering in the ship's log."

"Where's your wife, Paul?" asked Davis, abruptly, for he was half
impatient under the aphorizing tone of his companion.

"When last I heard of her," said Classon, slowly, as he eyed his glass
to the light, "she was at Chicago,--if that be the right prosody of
it,--lecturing on 'Woman's Rights.' Nobody knew the subject better than
Fanny."

"I heard she was a very clever woman," said Davis.

"Very clever," said Classon; "discursive; not always what the French
call 'consequent,' but, certainly, clever, and a sweet poetess." There
was a racy twinkle in that reverend eye as he said the last words, so
full of malicious drollery that Davis could not help remarking it;
but all Classon gave for explanation was, "This to her health and
happiness!" and he drained off a bumper. "And yours, Kit,--what of her?"
asked he.

"Dead these many years. Do you remember her?"

"Of course I do. I wrote the article on her first appearance at the
Surrey. What a handsome creature she was then! It was I predicted her
great success; it was I that saved her from light comedy parts, and told
her to play Lady Teazle!"

"I 'll show you her born image to-morrow,--her daughter," said Davis,
with a strange choking sensation that made him cough; "she's taller than
her mother,--more style also."

"Very difficult, that,--very difficult, indeed," said Classon, gravely.
"There was a native elegance about her I never saw equalled; and then
her walk, the carriage of the head, the least gesture, had all a certain
grace that was fascination."

"Wait till you see Lizzy," said Davis, proudly; "you 'll see these all
revived."

"Do you destine her for the boards, Kit?" asked Classon, carelessly.

"For the stage? No, of course not," replied Davis, rudely.

"And yet these are exactly the requirements would fetch a high price
just now. Beauty is not a rare gift in England; nor are form and
symmetry; but, except in the highly born, there is a lamentable
deficiency in that easy gracefulness of manner, that blended dignity and
softness, that form the chief charm of woman. If she be what you say,
Kit,--if she be, in short, her mother's daughter,--it is a downright
insanity not to bring her out."

"I 'll not hear of it! That girl has cost me very little short of ten
thousand pounds,--ay, ten thousand pounds,--schooling, master