"Well, grandfather and all," replied Tudie rather ambiguously. "His father calls him Charles. It sounds quite grand, doesn't it? We all wanted to call him Robert. And Hanny's big sister sings such a lovely song--"Robin Adair." I'd like to call him that." "I should so like to hear him sing. I'm so fond of singing," said Daisy plaintively. "Now if we were in the back yard we could all sing," rejoined Josie. "But of course we couldn't in the street with everybody going by." "Oh, no!" Yet there was a wistful longing in Daisy's face, that was beginning to look very tired. There were not many people going through this street. Houston Street was quite a thoroughfare. But the few who did pass looked at the merry group of girls and at the pale invalid whose chair told the story, and gave them all a tender, sympathetic thought. All except Lily Ludlow. She was rather curious about the girl in the chair and made an errand out to the Bowery. When Hanny saw who was coming she turned around and talked very eagerly to Elsie Hay, and pretended not to know it. Lily had her President, and Jim admired her, that was enough. "You're very tired, Missy," Sam said presently. "Yes," replied Daisy. "I think I'll go home now. And will you all come to see me to-morrow? Oh, it is so nice to know you all! And Pussy Gray is just angelic. Please bring him, too." They said good-by. For some moments the little girls looked at each other with wordless sorrow in their eyes. I think there were tears as well. CHAPTER XVII SOME OF THE OLD LANDMARKS "Yes, all of us," said Ben. "We can tuck in the Deans. I only wish Charles could go. Well, the house won't run away. And Mr. Audubon has travelled all over the world. Mr. Whitney wrote an article about him. That's the work I'd like to do--go and see famous people and write about them." Interviewing was not such a fine art in those days. Ben had enough of it later on. Dr. Joe had asked Mr. Audubon's permission to bring a crowd of children to see him and his birds. He was getting to be quite an attraction in the city. When they packed up they found a crowd sure enough. But Dr. Hoffman took Margaret and the little girl with him, as Charles had been allowed a half day off for the trip. The drive was so full of interest. They went up past the old Stuyvesant place and took a look at the pear-tree that had been planted almost two hundred years ago and was still bearing fruit. Then they turned into the old Bloomingdale Road, and up by Seventy-fifth Street they all stopped to see the house where Louis Philippe taught school when he was an emigrant in America. And now he was on the throne, King of the French people, a grander and greater position, some thought, than being President of the United States. "For of course," said Jim, "he can stay there all his life, and the President has only four years in the White House. After all, it is a big thing to be a king."