"I told him to go 'way back and sit down," answered Rushford, going
calmly on with his meal.

"Dad, is it true that Lord Vernon is to arrive to-morrow morning?"

"I suppose so."

"In a ship of war?"

"Yes--I've heard that, too."

"You'll take us down to the beach, won't you, dad?"

"What! A free-born American citizen go toadying after the English
aristocracy!"

"But we'll need a cicérone, dad."

"What for, I'd like to know?"

"Oh, what are cicérones always for? To get us a good place, to be sure!"

So here he was, in the forefront of the crowd, with his womenkind beside
him, and no doubt the discerning reader has already guessed that it was
to their cheeks I referred some pages back. There were many grandes
dames upon the beach that morning--some the real thing, a little plain,
a little faded, rather touching to look upon--others, for the most part
articles de Paris, very tall and plump and even handsome, if one likes
the gorgeous type, with gowns created by the great costumers and paid
for heaven knows how! But I always think with a little warmth of pride