, so far as the size
of the two men was concerned. But only in size were they alike. There
was nothing of the Dolph in Eustace's face. He bore, indeed, a strong
resemblance to his maternal great-grandmother, now many years put away
where she could no longer trouble the wicked, and where she had to let
the weary be at rest. (And how poor little Aline had wept and wailed
over that death, and lamented that she had not been more dutiful as a
child!) But his face was not strong, as the face of Madam Des Anges had
been. Some strain of a weaker ancestry reappeared in it, and, so to
speak, changed the key of the expression. What had been pride in the old
lady bordered on superciliousness in the young man. What had been
sternness became a mere haughtiness. Yet it was a handsome face, and
pleasant, too, when the young smile came across it, and you saw the
white small teeth and the bright, intelligent light in the dark eyes.

The two men strolled through the Battery, and then up South Street, and
so around through Old Slip. They were on business; but this was also a
pleasure trip to the elder. He walked doubly in spirit through those
old streets--a boy by his father's side, a father with his son at his
elbow. He had not been often in the region of late years. You remember,
he was a man of pleasure. He was one of the first-fruits of metropolitan
growth and social culture. His father had made an idler and _dilettante_
of him. It was only half a life at best, he thought, happy as he had
been; blessed as he was in wife and child. He was going to make a
business man of his own boy. After all, it was through the workers that
great cities grew. Perhaps we were not ripe yet for that European
institution, the idler. He himself had certain accomplishments that
other Americans had not. He could _flaner_, for instance. But to have to
_flaner_ through fifty or sixty or seventy years palled on the spirit,
he found. And one thing was certain, if any Dolph was ever to be an
accomplished _flaneur_, and to devote his whole life to that occupation,
the Dolph fortune must be vastly increased. Old Jacob Dolph had
miscalculated. The sum he had left in 1829 might have done very well for
the time, but it was no fortune to idle on among the fashionables of
1852.

Something of this Mr. Dolph told his son; but the young man, although he
listened with respectful attention, appeared not to take a deep interest
in his father's reminiscences. Jacob Dolph fanci