They had now reached Chestnut-street, which was filled with gaily-dressed
people, enjoying the balmy breath of a soft May evening. Mrs. Ellis and
Caddy walked briskly onward, and were soon beyond the line of shops, and
entered upon the aristocratic quarter into which many of its residents had
retired, that they might be out of sight of the houses in which their
fathers or grandfathers had made their fortunes.

"Mother," said Caddy, "this is Mr. Grant's new house--isn't it a splendid
place? They say it's like a palace inside. They are great people, them
Grants. I saw in the newspaper yesterday that young Mr. Augustus Grant had
been appointed an attache to the American legation at Paris; the newspapers
say he is a rising man."

"Well, he ought to be," rejoined Mrs. Ellis, "for his old grand-daddy made
yeast enough to raise the whole family. Many a pennyworth has he sold me.
Laws! how the poor old folk do get up! I think I can see the old man now,
with his sleeves rolled up, dealing out his yeast. He wore one coat for
about twenty years, and used to be always bragging about it."

As they were thus talking, a door of one of the splendid mansions they were
passing opened, and a fashionably-dressed young man came slowly down the
steps, and walked on before them with a very measured step and peculiar
gait.

"That's young Dr. Whiston, mother," whispered Caddy; "he's courting young
Miss Morton."

"You don't say so!" replied the astonished Mrs. Ellis. "Why, I declare his
grandfather laid her grandfather out! Old Whiston was an undertaker, and
used to make the handsomest coffins of his time. And he is going to marry