And this acknowledgment so pleased the judge that he answered: “I shall never forget her countenance as she lifted her eyes to the flags above the mantlepiece; her glance took in both, with equal affection; the red, white, and blue of the Netherlands, and the Star Spangled Banner which hung by its side. And let me tell you, Sappha, I liked our Christopher’s song, and also I liked the music Mr. Murray wrote for it. One was as good as the other. Here comes mother, and the coffee, and how delicious the meat and bread smell! Mother is always the bringer of good things. Sit here, Sappha, it is warmer than your own place.” During breakfast the gathering of the previous evening was more fully discussed; and in speaking of madame and Annette Sapphira made mention of Mr. St. Ange, who had visited them. Somewhat to their astonishment the judge said he had heard of the young man through the Livingstons, with whom he had had some business transactions. Mr. Edward Livingston, of New Orleans, had supplied him with introductions to some of the best New York families, and he thought it likely, from what he had been told, that Annette’s description of his beauty and excessive gentility was not more of an exaggeration than Annette’s usual statements. “You have been told things about him, father. Then he has been in New York more than two days?” “He has been here about two weeks.” “Oh! I understood from Annette that he had flown to grandmother’s friendship at once. She spoke as if they were to have the introducing of him to society in New York.” “Well, then, they can do a great deal for Mr. St. Ange in that way. I fancy he is rather popular already among the Livingston and Clinton set. My mother can give him equally fine introductions among the Dutch aristocracy. I believe him to be a gentleman, and I should think it quite prudent to offer him any courtesy that comes in your way.” After the judge had left home the two women continued the conversation. Mrs. Bloommaert was certain St. Ange was at least of French parentage. “His name is one of the best names among the nobility of France,” she said. “And if he is truly a French gentleman, you will see of what expression that word ‘gentleman’ is capable. But I wish not that you should meet him through Annette--her airs will be insufferable. I think it possible he may be at the Girauds’ ball to-morrow night. There you would meet him quite naturally. It is strange Josette Giraud did not name him to you when she called last Monday.” “Josette loves my brother Peter. Peter has her whole heart. There would not be room for the finest French gentleman in the world in it.” “Josette is a good girl. I wish much that Peter would marry her. But no, Peter thinks only of ships.” “Oh, you don’t know, mother! Peter talks about ships, but not about girls. All the same he thinks a deal about Josette Giraud.”