"What a frail, beautiful boy, and what genuine golden hair! Looks as if it had been dipped in a pot of gilt. Dearie, don't you think it a shame these young children are chained up in stores when they ought to be romping and playing ball?"
As their carriage turned from Twenty-third Street toward Broadway, that always crowded angle was even more than usually thronged, and during the brief pause Mr. Herriott came out of Maillard's with a box of bon-bons.
"I am just going to the ferry to wait for you. Are you not too early, or has my watch gone astray?"
"Come with us, Mr. Noel, we have ample room. Yes, it is early; but of course at the last minute I must needs shop on the way."
As he seated himself in the carriage he handed a package to Eglah.
"The latest Paris 'Revue,' and your favorite marron glacé and chocolate."
"Thank you heartily, for both. I wonder if I ever shall cease to be a spoiled child—in your eyes?"
"Whatever you may be in my eyes, you certainly will always remain."
"How discouraging, that you should feel quite hopeless of any improvement in me. Driver, I wish to stop in West Fourteenth Street, at ——. Gloves, Mr. Noel, always gloves."
"Will you bet a pair of best driving gauntlets that I cannot tell you exactly why you go there to-day?"