e some far back member of the family in whose
pride it shared.

Which reminded me, by contrast, of a call I had once made upon a certain
Northern family, conspicuously rich and conspicuously new. While waiting
in the drawing-room, I observed four different crests, or coats-of-arms,
framed and hanging in a separate place, smirking to one another in token
of their youthful fortune; for the lines had fallen unto them in
pleasant places.

Soon the mistress of the mansion swept into the room, her locomotion
accompanied by a wealthy sound, silk skirts calling unto silk skirts as
deep calleth unto deep. A little pleasant conversation ensued, which,
among other things informed me that the Turkish rug beneath me had cost
six hundred dollars; whereupon I anxiously lifted my unworthy feet, my
emotion rising with them. After both had subsided, I sought to stir the
sacred pool of memory, pointing reverently to one of the aforesaid
emblems of heraldry.

"That is your family coat-of-arms, Mrs. Brown, is it not?" I asked,
throwing wide the door for the return of the noble dead.

"Yes," she answered proudly, "that is my one, and that one there is Mr.
Brown's, and those other two are the children's; the yellow one is
Victoria's and the red one is Louisa Alexandra's. Mr. Brown bought them
in New York, and we thought when we were getting them we might just as
well get one apiece for the children too."

How rich and reckless, I reflected, is the spendthrift generosity of our
new world rich!

I could not but recall how those mean old English families make one such
emblem do for centuries, and the children have to be content with its
rusty symbols. But this lavish enterprise cheered me by its refreshing
contrast; for every one was new, and each child had one for its very
own.

There is no need to dwell on the succeeding Sabbath. St. Andrew's church
bore everywhere the evidences of wealth and refinement. Large and
sympathetic congregations were before me, evidently hospitable to the
truth; for Huguenot and Scotch-Irish blood does not lose its ruling
passion, and South Carolina has its generous portion of them both.

I sorely missed the psalms, without which, to those who have acquired
the stern relish, a service lacks its greatest tonic. But my poor
efforts seemed well received and the flood of Southern fervour burst
forth later on, as we sat around the Vardells' dinner table.

I was being initiated into the mystic sweets of "syllab