“I hope Judge Merlin and his daughter are quite well?”

“Quite.  They are still at Annapolis.  Papa visited them there for a few days last week.  The judge is stopping at the Stars and Stripes hotel, and Claudia is a parlor boarder at a celebrated French school in the vicinity.  Claudia will not ‘come out’ until next winter, when her father goes to Washington.  For next December Claudia will be eighteen years of age, and will enter upon her mother’s large property, according to the terms of the marriage settlement and the mother’s will.  I suppose she will be the richest heiress in America, for the property is estimated at more than a million!  Ah! it is fine to be Claudia Merlin—­is it not, Ishmael?”

“Very,” answered the young man, scarcely conscious amid the whirl of his emotions what he was saying.

“And what a sensation her entree into society will make!  I should like to be in Washington next winter when she comes out.  Ah, but after all—­what a target for fortune-hunters she will be, to be sure!” sighed Bee.

“She is beautiful and accomplished, and altogether lovely enough to be sought for herself alone!” exclaimed Ishmael, in the low and faltering tones of deep feeling.

“Ah, yes, if she were poor; but who on earth could see whether the heiress of a million were pretty or plain, good or bad, witty or stupid?”

“So young and so cynical!” said Ishmael sadly.

“Ah, Ishmael, whoever reads and observes must feel and reflect; and whoever feels and reflects must soon lose the simple faith of childhood.  We shall see!” said Bee, rising and drawing her gray silk scarf around her shoulders.

“You are not going?”

“Yes; I have much yet to do.”

“Can I not help you?”

“Oh, no; there is nothing that I have to do that a classical and mathematical scholar and nursling lawyer could understand.”

“Then, at least, allow me to see you safely home.  The nursling-lawyer can do that, I suppose?  If you will be pleased to sit down until I hear this young hopeful say his lesson, I will close up the schoolroom and be at your service.”

“Thank you very much; but I have to call at Brown’s, the overseer’s, and I would much rather you would not trouble yourself, Ishmael.  Good-by.  When we all get settled up at the house, which must be by next Saturday night, at farthest, you must come often to see us.  It was to say this that I came here.”

“Thank you, dearest Bee!  I shall esteem it a great privilege to come.”

“Prove it,” laughed Bee, as she waved adieu, and tripped out of the schoolroom.

Ishmael called up his pupil for recitation.

The little savage could not say his lesson, and began to weep and rub his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket.

“You mought let me off this once, anyways,” he sobbed.

“But why should I?” inquired Ishmael.

“A-cause of the pretty lady a-coming.”