'Tis plain that Milo has an honest heart. I think he's smiling.


II


My ancestors were gentlemen of considerable taste. I am glad they built me
that wing for my books; my numerous children cannot disturb me when I am
composing, either my speech to be delivered in the Senate, or my work
which is destined to refute Sir William Hamilton.

Let us stroll in. A strain of tender music comes from the sitting-room,
and I recognize the exquisite air of "Katharine Ogie" which Annie is
singing. Let us look, nevertheless, at the pictures as we pass.

What a stately head my old grandfather had! He was president of the King's
Council, a hundred years ago--a man of decided mark. He wears a long
peruke descending in curls upon his shoulders--a gold-laced waistcoat--and
snowy ruffles. His white hand is nearly covered with lace, and rests on a
scroll of parchment. It looks like a Vandyke. He must have been a resolute
old gentleman. How serene and calm is his look!--how firm are the finely
chiselled lips! How proud and full of collected intelligence the erect
head, and the broad white brow! He was a famous "macaroni," as they called
it, in his youth--and cultivated an enormous crop of wild oats. But this
all disappeared, and he became one of the sturdiest patriots of the
Revolution, and fought clear through the contest. Is it wrong to feel
satisfaction at being descended from a worthy race of men--from a family
of brave, truthful gentlemen? I think not. I trust I'm no absurd
aristocrat--but I would rather be the grandson of a faithful common