when his mind was very full of Joyce, the daughter.

"Not while Congress is in session," said Mrs. Basil. "It's a little
too much of the _oi polloi_ for the Judge. His family, you may not
know, Mr. Reybold, air of the Basils of King George. They married into
the Tayloze of Mount Snaffle. The Tayloze of Mount Snaffle have Ingin
blood in their veins--the blood of Poky-huntus. They dropped the name
of Taylor, which had got to be common through a want of Ingin blood,
and spelled it with a E. It used to be Taylor, but now it's Tayloze."

On another occasion, at sight of Joyce Basil cooking over the fire,
against whose flame her moulded arms took momentary roses upon their
ivory, Reybold said to himself: "Surely there is something above the
common in the race of this girl." And he asked the question of Mrs.
Basil:

"Madame, how was the Judge, your husband, at the last advices?"

"Hunting the snipe, Mr. Reybold. I suppose you do not have the snipe
in the North. It is the aristocratic fowl of the Old Dominion. Its
bill is only shorter than its legs, and it will not brown at the fire,
to perfection, unless upon a silver spit. Ah! when the Jedge and
myself were young, before his land troubles overtook us, we went to
the springs with our own silver and carriages, Mr. Reybold."

Looking up at Mrs. Basil, Reybold noticed a pallor and flush
alternately, and she evaded his eye.

Once Mrs. Basil borrowed a hundred dollars from Reybold in advance of
board, and the table suffered in consequence.