all of the ladies who were friends to me, and many distinguished
gentlemen of politics and of universities and other large affairs, who
were returning from business in Europe to more business in America, to
be present while a young boy of France, who was among those in the
steerage going to the freedom of America with his mother who had been
widowed at Ypres, sang in a very lovely voice many French folk songs
and songs of war to all present. And at that singing many tears flowed
and so much money was put into the hands of the boy that a future for
the very sad little French family was assured in America. And I also
wept. I was taken into the embrace of all of those kind American women
and assured of so much care and affection in that land of my father,
that I felt of a very great richness in spite of the small sum of
money in the heel of Nannette's rough stocking. And as I received all
of these beautiful attentions I perceived the eyes of my Capitaine,
the Count de Lasselles, fixed upon me with a deep gratitude and pride.
It was all of a great pleasure to me except that I did not like very
well to be so distinguished by a young man, which made the French
_grande dame_ in me to shrink.

"_Mais, vive la France_," I murmured to myself and was happy
again.

But, alas! At the joy of all this entertainment there was one sadness.
It was of my dear friend, Mr. Peter Scudder. There was no pleasure,
but great seriousness, in his face during the whole afternoon.

"Don't mind him; poor Pete's chewing a grouch," was what his good
friend Mr. William Raines answered to my lament over his sadness. And
that sadness lasted for three days, up unto the day before we came to
a sight of the Lady of Liberty of America. Then his face found a great