“Yes.  You were born of American parents, and you will be living in this country when you become of age.  That constitutes nationality.”

“Oh, how lovely!  I knew I was an American, really, but papa was always teasing me and saying I was a foreigner.  I hate foreigners.”

“Confound you, chum, you’ve spoiled one of my best jokes!  It’s been such fun to see Dot bristle when I teased her.  She’s the hottest little patriot that ever lived.”

“I think Miss D’Alloi’s nationality is akin to that of a case of which I once heard,” said Peter, smiling.  “A man was bragging about the number of famous men who were born in his native town.  He mentioned a well-known personage, among others, and one of his auditors said:  ’I didn’t know he was born there,’ ‘Oh, yes, he was,’ replied the man.  ’He was born there, but during the temporary absence of his parents!’”

“Peter, how much does a written opinion cost?” asked Leonore, eagerly.

“It has a range about equal to the woman’s statement that a certain object was as long as a piece of string.”

“But your opinions?”

“I have given an opinion for nothing.  The other day I gave one to a syndicate, and charged eight thousand dollars.”

“Oh, dear!” said Leonore.  “I wonder if I can afford to get your opinion on my being an American?  I should like to frame it and hang it in my room.  Would it be expensive?”

“It is usual with lawyers,” said Peter gravely, “to find out how much a client has, and then make the bill for a little less.  How much do you have?”

“I really haven’t any now.  I shall have two hundred dollars on the first.  But then I owe some bills.”

“You forget your grandmamma’s money, Dot.”

“Oh!  Of course.  I shall be rich, Peter, I come into the income of my property on Tuesday.  I forget how much it is, but I’m sure I can afford to have an opinion.”

“Why, Dot, we must get those papers out, and you must find some one to put the trust in legal shape, and take care of it for you,” said Watts.

“I suppose,” said Leonore to Peter, “if you have one lawyer to do all your work, that he does each thing cheaper, doesn’t he?”

“Yes.  Because he divides what his client has, on several jobs, instead of on one,” Peter told her.

“Then I think I’ll have you do it all.  We’ll come down and see you about it.  But write out that opinion at once, so that I can prove that I’m an American.”

“Very well.  But there’s a safer way, even, of making sure that you’re an American.”

“What is that?” said Leonore, eagerly.

“Marry one,” said Peter.

“Oh, yes,” said Leonore, “I’ve always intended to do that, but not for a great many years.”

CHAPTER XLI.

CALLS.