“Her box,” said I, “has just arrived from Albany by batteau.”

“Is the lady young and handsome?” he asked, smiling.

“Both, Mr. Boyd.”

“Well,” he said, with a polite oath, “she must be something more, too, if she hopes to rival Lana Helmer.”

So it had already come to such terms of intimacy that he now spoke of her as Lana. For the last few days I had not been to Croghan’s house to pay my respects, the heat leaving me disinclined to stir from the shade of the river trees. Evidently it had not debarred Boyd from presenting himself, or her from receiving him, although a note brought to me from Mrs. Bleecker by her black wench said that both she and