look at the crowd, mademoiselle! Is not that a wonderful sight?"
It really was. Rows of mounted policemen lined the path from palace to pavilion where the carpet was spread: behind them appeared a surging, swaying mass of human beings. At intervals of two or three minutes, as the people encroached on the path, the policemen forced them to retreat by spurring their horses into the heart of the crowd, and making them kick and rear; we could hear the screams of women, mingling with the dull roar of the mob.
"Oh!" I cried in horror. "Is any one killed?"
"I think not," replied my companion, with an easy smile.
"I feel like Marie Antoinette, when the mob was under her window at Versailles. I am afraid of that crowd."
"They are very gentle and patient," he said reassuringly.
"Yes, but there are so many of them!"
"I suppose you never see a crowd like that in America," said Mr. Cheremenieff.
How tiresome it is to be constantly reminded that you are a foreigner! One would think an American was an entirely different species from an ordinary woman. I answered, rather impatiently, "Oh yes, plenty of them," and turned my attention to the window.
A cheerful voice at my ear brought my eyes back to the room.
"Is n't it tiresome to wait so long?" cried George, giv-
