"Yes, aren't they?" replied the clergyman with a condescending glance which ill befit his clerical garb.
"I'm glad you don't have people like that dans votre eglise, Dr. Gedney," said young Geraldine, who thought it was "smart" to display her proficiency in the stylish French tongue. At this moment the door of the van der Griff residence was opened for them by an imposing footman in scarlet livery and they passed into the abode of the "elect".
"Hully gee!" repeated little Frank.
"What's going on to-night?" asked a newcomer.
"Gee—don't youse know?" answered the newsboy. "Dis is de van der Griffs' and tonight dey are giving a swell dinner for General Grant. Dat lady wot just went in was old Mrs. Rhinelander. I seen her pitcher in de last Harper's Weekly and dere was a story in de paper dis morning dat her daughter Geraldine was going to marry de General."
"That isn't so," broke in another. "It was just a rumor."
"Well, anyway," said Frank, "I wisht de General would hurry up and come—it's getting cold enough to freeze the tail off a brass monkey." The onlookers laughed merrily at his humorous reference to the frigid temperature, although many cast sympathetic looks at his thin threadbare garments and registered a kindly thought for this brave boy who so philosophically accepted the buffets of fate.
"I bet this is him now," cried Frank, and all waited expectantly as a vehicle drove up. The cabman jumped off his box and held the carriage door open.
"Here you are, Miss Flowers," he said, touching his hat respectfully.
A silver peal of rippling laughter sounded from the interior of the carriage.