of any of his nieces. Their youth and girlishness appealed to him
strongly, and he loved to have them by his side. It is true that he
secretly regretted Louise was not more genuine, that Beth was so
cynical and frank, and that Patsy was not more diplomatic. But he
reflected that he had had no hand in molding their characters, although
he might be instrumental in improving them; so he accepted the girls as
they were, thankful that their faults were not glaring, and happy to
have found three such interesting nieces to cheer his old age.

At last the preparations were complete. Tuesday arrived, and Uncle John
"corralled his females," as he expressed it, and delivered them safely
on board the staunch and comfortable ocean greyhound known as the
"Princess Irene," together with their bags and baggage, their flowers
and fruits and candy boxes and all those other useless accessories to a
voyage so eagerly thrust upon the departing travellers by their
affectionate but ill-advised friends.

Mrs. Merrick undertook the exertion of going to Hoboken to see her
daughter off, and whispered in the ear of Louise many worldly
admonitions and such bits of practical advice as she could call to mind
on the spur of the moment.

Major Gregory Doyle was there, pompous and straight of form and wearing
an assumed smile that was meant to assure Patsy he was delighted at her
going, but which had the effect of scaring the girl because she at first
thought the dreadful expression was due to convulsions.

The Major had no admonitions for Patsy, but she had plenty for him, and
gave him a long list of directions that would, as he said, cause him to
"walk mighty sthraight" if by good luck he managed to remember them all.