great personage at court a great many years before the misguided Colonists revolted against King George the Third, and they—her darling twins—were directly descended from her. The gentleman was her husband.
"He was awfully handsome," one of the twins had said, being romantic. "Are we descended from him too, mamma?" she inquired innocently.
"Certainly," said Mrs. Smith-Parvis severely.
A predecessor of Miss Emsdale's got her walking papers for putting nonsense (as well as the truth) into the heads of the children. At least, she told them something that paved the way for a most embarrassing disclosure by one of the twins when a visitor was complimenting them on being such nice, lovely little ladies.
"We ought to be," said Eudora proudly. "We are descended from Madam du Barry. We've got her picture upstairs."
Mrs. Smith-Parvis took Miss Emsdale with her on this particular Thursday afternoon. This was at the suggestion of Stuyvesant, who held forth that an English governess was in every way qualified to pass upon English wares, new or old, and there wasn't any sense in getting "stung "when there was a way to protect oneself, and all that sort of thing.
Stuyvesant also joined the hunt.
"Rather a lark, eh, what?" he whispered in Miss Emsdale's ear as they followed his stately mother into the shop of Juneo & Co. She jerked her arm away.
The proprietor was haled forth. Courteous, suave and polished though he was, Signor Juneo had the misfortune to be a trifle shabby, and sartorially remiss.
