he next asked to have the honour of seeing Mademoiselle."

"Is it what they call a _person_ in England, Pierre?"

Old Pierre smiled, as he answered--

"He has the air, Mademoiselle, though he esteems himself a
_personnage_, if I might take the liberty of judging."

"Ask him for his card,--there must be a mistake, I think."

While this short conversation took place, Grace Van Cortlandt was
sketching a cottage with a pen, without attending to a word that was
said. But, when Eve received the card from Pierre and read aloud,
with the tone of surprise that the name would be apt to excite in a
novice in the art of American nomenclature, the words "Aristabulus
Bragg," her cousin began to laugh.

"Who can this possibly be, Grace?--Did you ever hear of such a
person, and what right can he have to wish to see me?"

"Admit him, by all means; it is your father's land agent, and he may
wish to leave some message for my uncle. You will be obliged to make
his acquaintance, sooner or later, and it may as well be done now as
at another time."

"You have shown this gentleman into the front drawing-room, Pierre?"

"Oui, Mademoiselle."