A little to the eastward is the beautiful Bronx Park, that is going to tread closely on its down-town rival. Oh, is Central Park really down-town? There are woods and wilds, ravines and the leisurely stream, trees that have been brought from everywhere, walks and drives, hills clothed with verdure, and the old Lorillard mansion still grand, with its legend of love and tragedy. Its gardens have changed indeed. Grandmamma remembers the small old man, who used to gather his rose leaves day by day from the fragrant beds,--Lorillard's rose-snuff was a great thing two generations ago. "Did they really take snuff?" asks Ethel, in disgust. "How queer!" "And you know," says Rose, "that Uncle Herman told us of a man who declined to take snuff, because if nature had intended his nose for a dust-pan, she would have put it the other side up." How they both laugh at that! They have a governess friend at home, but they are continually picking up knowledge in their rides and rambles about. They know the old city that was afraid to stray above Union Square, they know the modern city with its fifty years of improvements, and they will grow up to womanhood in Greater New York, the Star City of the Continent. Here in one of the pleasant streets overlooking the park, they live. They are not rich; no one is now who doesn't go up in the millions. There is a pretty house looking like a hotel, an apartment house,--very moderate since it only accommodates three families. Joseph, the eldest son, who should have been a doctor, but is a fine architect, is married, and with his wife and two babies, and a dear friend who is an artist, has one side, and the other is grandmamma's. It is quite like a house by themselves, only there is a beautiful square hall, and a handsome stairway one could hardly have space for in a small house. Herman, the second son, lives with them, and is a scientist, and wields the pen of a ready writer. He has no taste for the toil and moil of money-getting,--a refined, studious, thoughtful young man. They have all had their share of happiness. Dolly and Stephen are really old people, and have a flock of grandchildren. Hanny can see her own father again in Stephen, and Dolly, since she has grown stout and white-haired, suggests her mother. Stephen's sons are promising young business-men. There is only one little grave marking their prosperous pathway,--a baby girl, who went so soon they have hardly missed her. Margaret is still handsome and aristocratic. Dr. Hoffman long ago gave up practice, his property interests increased so rapidly. Their sons and daughters are of the higher society order, intellectual, fine and noble, and a power in the land. One daughter has married an Englishman of rank, the other is the wife of a Bishop. Margaret is serene and satisfied, and still very fond of her little sister.