was
cold, and feeling very cheerless; but a comfortable looking maid, not
half so overwhelming as our Esmerelda, conducted me to a pleasant room,
and soon had a bright fire burning, and a cozy breakfast spread on a
little table just in front of the grate. I was not hungry, but I took the
cup of hot chocolate Mr. Winthrop had ordered, and nibbled a bit of
toast; and then, drawing an easy-chair in front of the fire, soon fell
into a luxurious sleep, from which I did not waken for several hours. The
maid came in occasionally to replenish the fire, but her light movements
did not disturb me. Afterward I found the hotel was not a public one, but
a private affair, patronized mainly by a number of old families whose
parents and children had come and gone for nearly half a century. The
room I occupied, Mrs. Flaxman told me, was the very one my own dear
mother had occupied as a bride; and hence Mr. Winthrop had secured it for
me. It was the best in the house, I found later on. That evening, after
I had wakened refreshed, and eager to see and hear all that was possible
in this new wonderland, Mrs. Flaxman, still a little nervous after her
journey and anxiety on my account, came and sat with me; and to atone
for keeping me in the house, told me stories of that beautiful, far-away
time when she had seen my mother in that same room in the first joy of
wifehood, and described my father as the proud, happy bridegroom, gazing
with more than a lover's fondness on the beautiful girl who had left all
for him, and yet in the renunciation had found no sacrifice. She
described the rich silken gown with its rare, old lace, and the diamonds
she wore at her first party in New York. "Mr. Winthrop has them, your
mother's diamonds and all her jewelry. In being an only child like
yourself, she inherited all her own mother's. They are all safely stored
at his bankers, and I think he means to give them to you soon, or at
least a part of them."

"I did not know I had any except what I brought with me from school," I
said, with a shade of regret to be so long in ignorance of such a
pleasant fact. Mrs. Flaxman smiled as she asked:

"Did you never hear your schoolmates talk of the family plate and
jewelry?"

"Oh, yes; there were a few stupid ones who had very little brains to be
proud of; so they used to try and make up for the lack by telling us
about such things; but we reckoned a good essay writer worth a good deal
more than these plate owners."