As they drove through the streets the professor, seated on the front seat, bobbed about from right to left, looking out at the windows and gazing at the houses, the shops, and the crowds of people.

Nothing could exceed the surprise and delight of the intellectual but childlike old man, who now for the first time in his life looked upon a large city. His enthusiasm at the sight of the Capitol was delicious.

"You shall go all through it some day, as soon as we get settled,"

said Ishmael.

"There is only one thing that I am doubtful about," said the professor.

"And what is that?"

"That I have not years enough left to live to see all the wonders of the world."

"None of us--not the youngest of us have, professor. But you will live to see a great many. And by the time that you have seen everything that is to be found in Washington, I shall be ready to go to Europe; for I expect to see Europe some time or other, professor, and you shall see it with me."

"Oh!" ejaculated the odd-job man, who seemed to think that the millennium was not far off.

And at that moment the carriage drew up before Ishmael's lodgings.

And the driver and the professor carried the luggage into the front hall. And when the carriage was paid and dismissed Ishmael conducted the professor to the inner office where the two clerks that were in charge of it arose to welcome their principal.

When he had shaken hands with them, he led his retainer into the bedroom, and showed him a small vacant chamber adjoining that, and told him that the latter should be his--the professor's own sanctuary. Then he showed the old man the pleasant garden, all blooming now with late roses, chrysanthemums, dahlias, and other gorgeous autumn flowers, and told him that there he might walk or sit, and smoke his pipe in pleasant weather. And finally he brought the professor back to the front office, where he found his hostesses, Miss Jenny and Miss Nelly Downey, waiting to welcome him.

Nice, delicate, refined-looking old maiden ladies they were--tall, thin, and fair complexioned, with fine, gray hair, and cobweb lace caps and pale gray dresses, and having pleasant smiles and soft voices.

After they had shaken hands with their lodger they turned looks of inquiry upon the tall, gray-haired old man that stood behind him.

"This is a very old friend of mine; I have engaged him to take care of my rooms, his name is Morris, but upon account of his skill in many arts he has received from the public the title of professor,"

said Ishmael, turning an affectionate look upon the old odd-job man.

"How do you do, Professor Morris? We are very glad to see you, I am sure; and we hope you will find yourself comfortable, and also that you will be a comfort to Mr. Worth, who is a very estimable young gentleman indeed," said Miss Jenny, speaking for herself and sister.

"I cannot fail to be both comfortable and happy under this honored roof, my ladies!" said the professor, in a most reverential tone, laying his hand upon his heart and making a profound bow that would have done credit to the most accomplished courtier of the grave and stately old school.

"A nice, gentlemanly old person," said Miss Jenny, nodding her head to her sister. And Miss Nelly said "Yes," and nodded her head also.

"If you can fit up the little chamber adjoining my bedroom for the professor, I will arrange with you for his board," said Ishmael, aside to Miss Jenny.

"Oh, certainly; it shall be done immediately," replied the old lady.

And she left the room, followed by her sister, to give orders to that effect.

And before night the professor was comfortably installed in his neatly furnished and well-warmed little room, and Ishmael's apartments were restored to order, and he himself in full career going over the office business of the last two weeks with his clerks.

He found a plenty of work cut out for him to do, and he resolved to be very busy to make up for his idleness during his holiday.

Ishmael did not really wish to tax his old servant with any labor at all. He wished his office to be as much of a sinecure as possible.

And he continually urged the professor to go abroad and see the city sights, or to walk in the garden and enjoy his pipe, or rest himself in his own room, or visit his daughter, the hackman's wife.

The professor obediently did all this for a time; but as the days passed Ishmael saw that the old man's greatest happiness consisted in staying with and serving his master; and so he at length permitted the professor to relieve the chamber-maid of her duties in his rooms, and take quiet possession and complete charge of them.

And never were rooms kept in more perfect order. And, best of all, love taught the professor the mystic art of dusting without deranging papers and dementing their owner.

Ishmael's present position was certainly a very pleasant one. He not only found a real home in his boarding-house, and a faithful friend in his servant, but a pair of aunties in his landladies. Every good heart brought in contact with Ishmael Worth was sure to love him.

And these old ladies were no exception to the rule. They had no relatives to bestow their affections upon, and so, seeing every day more of their young lodger's worth, they grew to love him with maternal ardor. It is not too much to say that they doted on him.

And in private they nodded their heads at each other and talked of its being time to make their wills, and spoke of young Mr. Worth as their heir and executor.

Ishmael for his part treated the old ladies with all the reverential tenderness that their age and womanhood had a right to expect from his youth and manhood. He never dreamed that the "sweet, small courtesies," which it was his happiness to bestow alike on rich and poor, had won for him such signal favor in the eyes of the old ladies. He knew and was happy to know that they loved him. That was all. He never dreamed of being their heir; he never even imagined that they had any property to bequeath. He devoted himself with conscientious zeal to his profession, and went on, as he deserved to go on, from success to success.

CHAPTER XIII.

LADY VINCENT'S RECEPTION.

The folds of her wine-dark violet dress Glow over the sofa fall on fall.

As she sits in the light of her loveliness, With a smile for each and for all.

Could we find out her heart through that velvet and lace, Can it beat without rumpling her sumptuous dress?

She will show us her shoulder, her bosom, her face, But what her heart's like, we must guess.

--_O. M._

The evening of Lady Vincent's reception arrived. At an unfashionably early hour Judge Merlin's country house was filled.

All the county families of any importance were represented there.

The rustic guests, drawn, no doubt, not more by their regard for Judge Merlin and his daughter than by their curiosity to behold a titled foreigner.

Mr. and Mrs. Middleton and Beatrice came very early, encumbered with several bandboxes; for their long ride made it necessary for them to defer their evening toilet until after their arrival.

They were received and conducted to their rooms by old Aunt Katie.

"Lady Vincent," she said, "has not yet left her dressing room."

When their toilets were made, Mr. and Mrs. Middleton came to Bee's door to take her down to the drawing room.

Very beautiful indeed looked Bee, in her floating, cloud-like dress of snow-white tulle, with white moss-roses resting on her rounded bosom and wreathing her golden ringlets; and all her beauty irradiated with the light of a happy love.

Her father smiled proudly and her mother fondly on her as she came out and joined them.

The found the drawing rooms already well filled with guests.

Lord and Lady Vincent stood near the door to receive all comers. To them the Middletons first went.

Very handsome and majestic looked Claudia in her rich robe of royal purple velvet, with her raven black hair crowned with a diadem of diamonds, and diamonds blazing on her neck and arms and at her waist. Strangers looked upon her loveliness with unqualified delight. Her "beauty made them glad." But friends who saw the glittering surface and the alloy beneath it, admired and sighed. Her dark eyes were beaming with light; her oval cheeks were burning with crimson fire. Mrs. Middleton thought this was fever; but Bee knew it was French rouge.

Claudia received her friends with bright smiles and gay words. She complimented them on their good looks and rallied them on their gravity. And then she let them lightly pass away to make room for new arrivals, who were approaching to pay their respects.

They passed through the crowd until they found Judge Merlin, to whose care Mr. Middleton consigned Bee, while he himself, with his wife on his arm, made a tour of all the rooms, including the supper room.

The party, they saw, was going to be a successful one, notwithstanding the fact that the three great metropolitan ministers of fashion had nothing whatever to do with it.