"You must a heard of the kings of England. Sho', wa'n't any of
yo' folks in the war agin' him?"

"I'd plumb forgot, why my daddy fit all through that war!"
exclaimed Yancy. The Cavendishes were immensely relieved. Polly
beamed on the invalid, and the children hunched closer. Six
pairs of eager lips were trembling on the verge of speech.

"Now you-all keep still," said Cavendish. "I want Mr. Yancy
should get the straight of this here! The various orders of
royalty are kings, dukes, earls and lords. Earls is the third
from the top of the heap, but lords ain't no slouch; it's a right
neat little title, and them that has it can turn round in most
any company."

"Dick had ought to know, fo' he's an earl himself," cried Polly
exultantly, unable to restrain herself any longer, while a mutter
came from the six little Cavendishes who had been wonderfully
silent for them.

"Sho', Richard Keppel Cavendish, Earl of Lambeth! 'Sho', that
was what he was! Sho'!" and some transient feeling of awe
stamped itself upon their small faces as they viewed the long and
limber figure of their parent.

"Is that mo' than a Colonel?" Yancy risked the question
hesitatingly, but he felt that speech was expected from him.

"Yes," said the possessor of the title.