e, surrounded by a
splendid lawn and gardens. A generation had already passed since its
erection, and the city was slowly creeping near. It was a stately
specimen of Colonial domestic architecture, built on simple, restful
lines, and distinguished by the noble columns of its Grecian front.
Destined to be diminished, the grounds had already begun to shrink;
but from its commanding position it had a view that was magnificent,
overlooking as it did, the Hudson, the Harlem, the East River, the
Sound, and upon every side, miles upon miles of undulating land.

On the way, and again upon the grounds, Burr related the history of
the old landmark, telling much with the fascination of personal
knowledge. The tale of the Morrises, of Washington and of Mary
Philipse was yet upon his tongue, as he led Ellis through the broad
pillared entrance, into the great hall.

Things moved swiftly, very swiftly and very dreamily, to the
countryman in the next few hours. Nothing but the lack of ability
prevented his vanishing at the sound of approaching skirts; nothing
but physical timidity prevented his answering the greeting of the
hostess; nothing but conscious awkwardness prompted the crude bow that
answered the courtesy of the girl with the small hands, and the dark
eyes who accompanied her--the first courtesy from powdered maid of
fashion that he had ever known. Her name, Mary Philipse, coming so
soon after Burr's story, staggered him, and, open-mouthed, he stood
looking at her. Remembrance came to Burr simultaneously, and he
touched Ellis on the arm.

"Don't worry, my friend," he laughed; "she's not the one."

Ellis grew red to the ears.

"We'll leave you to Mary," said Burr retreating with a smile; "she'll
tell you the rest--from where I left off."

The girl with the big brown eyes was still smiling in an amused sort
of way, but Ellis showed no resentment. He knew that to her he was a
strange animal--very new and very peculiar. He did not do as a lesser
man would have done, pretend knowledge of things unknown, but looked
the girl frankly in the eyes.

"Pardon me, but it was all rather sudden," he explained. The red had
left his face now. "I've only known a few women--and they were not--of
your class. This is Mr. Burr's joke, not mine."

The smile faded from the girl's face. She met him on his own ground,
and they were friends.

"Don't take it that way," she protested, quickly. "I see, he's been
telling you of Washington's Mar