“All right,” said the judge, touching a bell that presently summoned Jim to his presence.

“Let us have breakfast immediately.  Where is Miss Merlin?  Let her know that we are waiting for her.”

“‘Miss Merlin’ is here, papa,” said a rich voice at the door.

Ishmael’s heart bounded and throbbed, and Claudia entered the breakfast room.

Such a picture of almost Oriental beauty, luxury, and splendor as she looked!  She wore a morning robe of rich crimson foulard silk, fastened up the front with garnet buttons, each a spark of fire.  The dress was open at the throat and wrists, revealing glimpses of the delicate cambric collar and cuffs confined by the purest pearl studs.  Her luxuriant hair was carried away from her snowy temples and drooped in long, rich, purplish, black ringlets from the back of her stately head.  But her full, dark eyes and oval crimson cheeks and lips glowed with a fire too vivid for health as she advanced and gave her father the morning kiss.

“I am glad you have come, my dear!  I have been waiting for you!” said the judge.

“You shall not have to do so another morning, papa,’” she answered.

“Here is Ishmael, Claudia,” said her father, directing her attention to the youth, who had delicately withdrawn into the background; but who, at the mention of his own name, came forward to pay his respects to the heiress.

“I am glad to see you, Mr. Worth,” she said, extending her hand to him as he bowed before her; and then quickly detecting a passing shade of pain in his expressive face, she added, smiling: 

“You know we must begin to call you Mr. Worth some time, and there can be no better time than this, when you make your first appearance in the city and commence a new career in life.”

“I had always hoped to be ‘Ishmael’ with my friends,” he replied.

“‘Times change and we change with them,’ said one of the wisest of sages,” smiled Claudia.

“And coffee and muffins grow cold by standing; which is more to the present purpose,” laughed Judge Merlin, handing his daughter to her seat at the head of the table, taking his own at the foot, and pointing his guest to one at the side.

When all were seated, Claudia poured out the coffee and the breakfast commenced.  But to the discredit of the judge’s consistency, it might have been noticed that, after he had helped his companion to steak, waffles, and other edibles, he resumed his newspaper; and, regardless that coffee and muffins grew cold by standing, recommenced reading the debates in Congress.

At length, when he finished reading and saw that his companions had finished eating, he swallowed his muffin in two bolts, gulped his coffee in two draughts, and started up from the table, exclaiming: 

“Now, then, Ishmael, if you are ready?”

Ishmael arose, bowed to Claudia, and turned to follow his employer.

The judge led him upstairs to a sort of office or study, immediately over the breakfast room, having an outlook over the Capitol grounds, and fitted up with a few book-cases, writing desks, and easy-chairs.