back past the struggling colonists and past the _Mayflower_ to find the
roots of that faith in the mother country, in a little English town
beside the Dee.

"No, my dear," she exclaimed, looking up at Mildred; "it is not a land
of strangers you are going to. We sing 'America' and you sing 'God Save
the Queen,' and we both feel sometimes that there is a vast difference
between the songs. But they are set to the same tune, you know, and to
alien ears, who cannot understand our tongue or our temperament, they
must sound alike."

Life seemed very different to Mildred when she went to her stateroom
that night, and her cheery companion inspired her with so much hope
before the voyage was over that she began to look forward to landing
with some degree of interest. How much of her new-found courage was due
to the presence of her helpful counsellor Mildred did not realize until
she came to the parting. They were standing at the foot of the gangplank
in the New York custom-house.

"I am sorry that I cannot stay to see you safe in your uncle's care,"
the lady said, "but my son tells me there is barely time to catch the
next train to Boston. Good-bye, my child. If you get lonely and
discouraged, think of the motto in my wedding-ring, and take it for your
own."

The next instant Mildred felt, with a terrible sinking of the heart,
that she was all alone in the great, strange, new world.

Following the directions in her uncle's letter, she pushed her way
through the crowds until she came to the section marked "S," where he