"Twice and a half times, eh?"—with a whistle. "How old are you, may I ask?"
"Twelve and a half, sir."
"You are fond of fractions, it seems. Flea, this is Mr. Tayloe, who is going to teach you something besides Shakespeare next week. You saw Mr. Grigsby this morning, Mr. Tayloe. This young lady who has read Shakespeare twice and a half times and is twelve and a half years old is his daughter."
The girl courtesied again; Mr. Tayloe nodded and pursed up his mouth. The Major resumed his kindly raillery, dipping at random into the dogeared book with the look and touch of one familiar with its contents.
"What have you been reading to-day, my fractional damsel?"
"King Henry Fifth, sir."
"Whose son was he?"
"King Henry Fourth's, sir."
The girl was now quite at home with him and her subject. Her sallow face warmed and dimpled with enjoyment of the mock examination. She stood erect, her arms crossed upon the upper bench, her eyes dancing with amusement.
"Let me see. He was a nice, steady, well-behaved young fellow?"