weeks afterwards, on his way home with his party. His son accompanied
him, with the nurse of a superb rosy baby folded in white fleecy wools,
and a lady, stately as any princess ought to be, but seldom is, with
her black fox robes about her. “She is very teachable,” thought Mr. Van
Nore. “A month of our life will give her all the _savoir faire_ she
needs. Her tact is inestimable.” And then he wondered if she could hold
her own with Jocelyne. “My grandson, the future Van Nore,” he said to
every acquaintance he came across, and they all seemed to be travelling
on various portions of that trip. “Hero, my dear! My daughter-in-law,
Mrs. Van Nore. My daughter-in-law. A great addition to our circle, I
assure you. An old family, an old family. We--we are not exactly, so to
say, related, but we--we--we have some of the same blood in our veins!”
THE END
TRANSCRIBER’S NOTES:
Italicized text is surrounded by underscores: _italics_.
Perceived typographical errors have been corrected.
Inconsistencies in hyphenation have been standardized.
Archaic or variant spelling has been retained.