pose at being; do you believe he was?" This to King. "Look at him
here; if ever there was an inborn, inbred aristocratic son of a
revolutionist--"

"He barricaded the streets of Paris with his fellow-students in his
turn, don't forget," said King.

"Where his papa had sent him for a more cosmopolitan knowledge of
life than Louisville could afford," supplemented Alexina gaily.

"And where he wrote verses to a little dressmaker across the hall,"
said William.

"Verses?" said Alexina. "Did he write verses? I never heard about the
verses."

"No?" said the son; "hasn't he ever written verses to you? Well, since
I've opened the way to it, I was leading up to it all the while, why
_I have_. I'll show 'em to you. I've had 'em in my pocket waiting the
opportunity three days now." Which was true. He had been going for
them that first day.

He produced a small card photograph, somewhat faded, which, taken in
Alexina's hand, showed her a little girl's serious face, with
short-cropped hair.

"She had a nice, straight little nose, anyhow," said Alexina
approvingly, studying the card.

"Turn it over," said William Leroy. He had a way of commanding people.
Some day Alexina intended warring with him about it, but she turned it
over now. The lines inscribed on its reverse were in a round and
laboured script that, despite effort, staggered down hill.

"I wrote 'em," said Willy Leroy, "moi--myself, with gulped-down tears
at leaving you. I've never written any since."

She was reading them.

"Out loud," he commanded.

She read them aloud. She was laughing, but she was blushing absurdly,
too.

"This is Alexina and she
Is a girl but she
Plays like I tell her and she
Cried because we had to come away
And this is Alexina."

"He thinks, your son does," said Alexina, addressing herself to the
Captain, "that he was a precocious person, whereas he was only--"

"Young," said the Captain.

"Lamentably egotistical," said Alexina.

"Give it to me," said Willy, "my picture and my feelings thereon."

"No," said the girl; "I want it."

"Yes." He said it with the King William air. She made a little mouth,
but gave him the card, which he put back in his wallet and the wallet
into his pocket. "You're welcome to a copy of the lines," he said.

Alexina, bestowing on him a glance of lofty disdain, departed,
high-headed, into the house.

But he ran after her and stooped, that he might look into her face;
was