"I am here according to appointment, Judge Merlin; and hope I find you well."
"Ah, yes; good-morning! how do you do, Ishmael?" said the judge laying aside his paper and cordially shaking hands with the youth. "Punctual, I see. Had a pleasant journey?"
"Thank you, sir; very pleasant," returned Ishmael.
"Feel like setting to work this morning? There is quite an accumulation of correspondence groaning to be attended to."
"I am ready to enter upon my duties whenever you please, sir."
"All right," said the judge, touching a bell that presently summoned Jim to his presence.
"Let us have breakfast immediately. Where is Miss Merlin? Let her know that we are waiting for her."
"'Miss Merlin' is here, papa," said a rich voice at the door.
Ishmael's heart bounded and throbbed, and Claudia entered the breakfast room.
Such a picture of almost Oriental beauty, luxury, and splendor as she looked! She wore a morning robe of rich crimson foulard silk, fastened up the front with garnet buttons, each a spark of fire. The dress was open at the throat and wrists, revealing glimpses of the delicate cambric collar and cuffs confined by the purest pearl studs. Her luxuriant hair was carried away from her snowy temples and drooped in long, rich, purplish, black ringlets from the back of her stately head. But her full, dark eyes and oval crimson cheeks and lips glowed with a fire too vivid for health as she advanced and gave her father the morning kiss.