“An earl’s fiddlestick!  What do you suppose American girls would care for that?  Nor would they believe it, even, unless I had diamonds and coronet and every thing to match.  Your mother had diamonds, I know, but mine had not.  By-the-by, where are they, Miriam?  I have never seen them.”

“I do not know, Evelyn,” I replied, gravely.  “I have never thought about them until now, I am so sorry your heart is set upon such things.  You know what Mamma Constance used to tell us.”

“Oh, yes, I remember she croaked continually, as all delicate, doomed people do, I believe.  It was well enough in her case, as she had to die; but, as for me—­look at me, Miriam Monfort!  Do I look like death?  No; victory, rather!” and she straightened her elastic form exultingly.  “And you, too, little one, are growing up strong and tall and better-looking than you used to be,” she continued, patting my cheek carelessly.  “The Jewish gaberdine is gradually dropping off; I mean the dinginess of your early complexion.  By the time I have had my successful career, and am settled in life, yours will begin.  Help me now, and I will help you then.”

“You are only a school-girl,” I said, sententiously.  “You had better be thinking of your lessons, and let beaux and diamonds alone.  I would be ashamed to keep a key to my exercises and sums, as you do.  I would blush in the dark to do such a thing.”

“I am not preparing myself for a governess, that I should make a point of honor of such things, little pragmatical prig that you are; nor are you, that I know of.  You will always have plenty of money.  ’Rich as a Jew’ is a proverb, you know, all the world over.”

The taunt had long since lost its sting; so I replied, meekly: 

“We none of us know what may happen.  I should like to be able to support myself and Mabel, if the worst came.  Old Mr. Stanbury says all property is uncertain nowadays, especially in this country.”

“Oh, don’t repeat what that old croaking vulgarian and general leveller and democrat says, to me!  A democrat is my aversion, anyhow.  I wonder papa, can tolerate that coarse old Jackson man in his sight.  ’Adams and the Federal cause forever,’ say I; and all aristocratic people are on that side.  I never enjoyed any thing so much as our illumination when Mr. Clay gave his casting vote, and carried Congress.  The Stanbury house was as dark as a grave that night; but Norman was in our interest, and I made him halloo ‘Hurrah for Adams!’ That was a triumph, at all events.  It nearly killed the old gentleman, though.”

“If I were a man, I, too, would vote for General Jackson,” I said defiantly.  “He was such a brave soldier; he could defend our country if it was attacked again.  Besides, I like his face better than old moon-faced Adams; and I despise Norman for his time-serving.”

“Miriam, I shall tell papa if you utter such sentiments again; you know how devoted he is to the Federal party, and you ought to be ashamed of yourself.”