"Yes, they are at a great distance from one another," she admitted, "but
they are both in America."

"But not both in the United States," cried Betty. "French girls always
seem to think that North and South America are the same, that they are
both the United States."

"Yes," said the slow girl with deliberation. "We do make odd mistakes
sometimes." To which she added with entire innocence of any ironic
intention. "But you Americans, you seem to feel the United States, your
New York, to be all America."

Betty started a little and flushed. During a few minutes of rapid
reflection she sat bolt upright at her desk and looked straight
before her. Her mentality was of the order which is capable of making
discoveries concerning itself as well as concerning others. She had
never thought of this view of the matter before, but it was quite true.
To passionate young patriots such as herself at least, that portion of
the map covered by the United States was America. She suddenly saw also
that to her New York had been America. Fifth Avenue Broadway, Central
Park, even Tiffany's had been "America." She laughed and reddened a
shade as she put the atlas aside having recorded a new idea. She had
found out that it was not only Europeans who were local, which was a
discovery of some importance to her fervid youth.

Because she thought so often of Rosalie, her attention was, during the
passing years, naturally attracted by the many things she heard of such
marriages as were made by Americans with men of other countries than
their own. She discovered that notwithstanding certain commercial