“‘“What’s that!” I said, with a look of pity.
“‘Then I showed her a letter from Mrs. Van Alstyne, with a lion and a griffin cuffing each other black and blue at the top of the sheet.
“‘“It’s grand!” said she.
“‘“It’s the Van Alstyne crest,” I said. “It’s a proof of respectability. Aren’t you as good as they are?”
“‘“Every bit!” said she.
“‘“That’s what I thought. Don’t you often feel as if you were better than a good many people you know?”
“‘“Sure I do.”
“‘“Well, that’s a sign that you’re blue-blooded,” said I. “Probably you’ve got a king in your family somewhere. A crest shows that you suspect your ancestors––nothing more than that. It isn’t proof, so there’s no reason why you shouldn’t have it. You ought not to be going around without a crest, as if you were a common servant-girl. Why, every kitchen-maid will be thinking she’s as good as you are. You want to be in style. You have money in the bank, and not half the people who have crests are as well able to afford ’em.”
“‘“How much do they cost?”