kind of like a cherub in an ulster, and it's a most outlandish sort of a

name, anyway, to my mind."

You'll not hear her find fault with it, my lady."

"That's a true word. She takes to any kind of romantic rubbish like she

was born to it. She never got it from me, that's sure. And sending her

to that silly college hasn't helped the matter any--just the other way."

"Now hear her, Hawkins! Rowena-Ivanhoe College is the selectest and most

aristocratic seat of learning for young ladies in our country. Under no

circumstances can a girl get in there unless she is either very rich and

fashionable or can prove four generations of what may be called American

nobility. Castellated college-buildings--towers and turrets and an

imitation moat--and everything about the place named out of Sir Walter

Scott's books and redolent of royalty and state and style; and all the

richest girls keep phaetons, and coachmen in livery, and riding-horses,

with English grooms in plug hats and tight-buttoned coats, and top-boots,

and a whip-handle without any whip to it, to ride sixty-three feet behind

them--"

"And they don't learn a blessed thing, Washington Hawkins, not a single

blessed thing but showy rubbish and un-american pretentiousness. But

send for the Lady Gwendolen--do; for I reckon the peerage regulations

require that she must come home and let on to go into seclusion and mourn

for those Arkansas blatherskites she's lost."

The American Claimant