And the number of girls in declines she cured by Master Necronsett’s system!  You would not believe it, if I told you.  And she had our river named after that wise old heathen, and we think it the prettiest name possible for a river.

All this time, Ann Mary’s position was getting grander and grander, for Captain Winthrop was on the American side when the Revolution came, and grew to be a very important man.  Ann Mary dressed in brocade every day and all day, and went to Philadelphia, where she met General and Mrs. Washington, and ever so many more famous people.

Wherever she went, she was admired and loved for her beauty and gentleness; but she did not forget Hannah.  Nearly every traveler from the South brought a message or a present from Madam Winthrop to Mistress Wheeler, and once she and General Winthrop came and made a long visit in Hillsboro.

Grandmother’s grandmother was old enough, by that time, to remember the visit very clearly; and it was from talk between the two sisters that she learned all about this story.  She said she never saw a more beautiful woman than Madam Winthrop, nor heard a sweeter voice.  But how Hannah had to hush the unmannerly surprise of her brood of quick-witted youngsters when they found out that elegant Aunt Ann Mary did not know her letters, and had never heard of Julius Caesar or Oliver Cromwell!  For marriage did not change Ann Mary very much; but as her husband was perfectly satisfied with her, I dare say it was just as well.

However, when the Winthrop cousins begin to put on airs, and to talk about autograph letters from Benjamin Franklin and Jefferson addressed to their great-great-great-grandmother, and to show beautiful carved fans and lace handkerchiefs which she carried at State balls in Philadelphia and New York, I have to bite my tongue to keep from reminding them that they have no autograph letters of hers!

Then I go up into our garret, and look at Hannah’s shabby old books, and I ride over to the place on the road where she tended the fire that night, and I think of the number of Hillsboro boys and girls to whom she opened the great world of books, and—­somehow, I am just as well pleased that it was not the lovely Ann Mary who came back to our town and became my great-great-great-grandmother.

THE DELIVERER

“I shall not die, but live; and declare the works of the Lord.”

The great lady pointed with a sigh of pleasure to the canvas hung between a Greuze and a Watteau!  “Ah, is there anyone like LeMaury!  Alone in the eighteenth century he had eyes for the world of wood and stream.  You poets and critics, why do you never write of him?  Is it true that no one knows anything of his life?”

The young writer hesitated.  “I do not think I exaggerate, madame, when I say that I alone in Paris know his history.  He was a compatriot of mine.”