It is not at all comme il faut. She was dressed in a tattered black stuff gown, discoloured by various stains, and intended, it would seem, from the remnants of rusty crape with which it was here and there tricked out, to represent the garb of widowhood, and held in her arms a sleeping infant, swathed in the folds of a linsey-woolsey shawl. “That,” he said, grimly, with his hand on the doorhandle, “must be your own affair, unless you choose to live at Morningside Park. Well, I'll take myself off. “Your father, of course,” he said, “must come to realize just how Splendid you are! He doesn’t understand. There could not, he decided, possibly be two girls so much alike. “Let me introduce you to Caesar,” he said; and she patted Caesar’s neck, and remarked how soft his nose was, and secretly deplored the ugliness of equine teeth.
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