“Yes, my dear,” he said, with an expression of satisfaction, as he, too, looked out and saw the team. “It is not often that I ride, as you well know, but when I do, I like to go in style. One ride a year in ‘ship-shape’ would satisfy me, where a half-dozen in some broken-down hack wouldn’t give me a bit of pleasure. Now, put on your hat, and tuck some roses in your belt, as you did yesterday, for this is to be a gala day, and I want you as fine as possible.” Star laughed and tripped away to obey, coming back after a few moments with such a bright and happy face that Mr. Rosevelt thought she had never looked so lovely before. All the morning they drove, four long, delightful hours-hours that were always a pleasant memory afterward to both of them; and many who saw the nicely dressed old gentleman, with the fair, bright, golden-haired girl beside him in their elegant carriage, thought what a green old age must be his, with so much to make life pleasant. About one o’clock they turned toward the city once more, and Star said, with a sigh of pleasure: “Uncle Jacob, I believe there never was such a perfect day before, and I’m sure I never enjoyed a birthday more. You were very kind to plan this pleasure for me.” The old gentleman’s eyes twinkled. Her delight, her bright, animated face were such a joy to him. “If I had only been rich as I used to be, I should so like to have made you some nice present to-day—a watch, for instance,” he said. “You gave me something last night which I value far better—your confidence,” Star said, softly. “I should like a watch,” she added, after a moment, “and I mean to have one some time. When I have earned it, you shall go and select it for me, if you will. But what have you done with your own, Uncle Jacob? You had a very nice one when I first met you, and I remember seeing it on you after the wreck.” “Watches and I have not had much in common during the last two years,” he answered, evasively; and she thought perhaps he had been obliged to sell it since he became poor. All at once the carriage stopped in a quiet street up town, which, Star noticed, was lined on both sides with elegant brown-stone dwellings. “What are we stopping here for?” she asked. “A good woman whom I used to know lives here, and I thought, as we were in gala attire to-day, I would like to stop and make a call, and—introduce my Star to her,” Mr. Rosevelt said, preparing to alight. He helped Star out, and together they went up the marble steps. Mr. Rosevelt rang the bell, and then took a card from one of his pockets, and, with an arch smile, said: “It almost seems as if we were really fine people, doesn’t it, dressed in our best, riding about in our carriage, and sending our cards in at a brown-stone house?”