t and
solemn as may be, having his lady on his arm.

--No. 4, senior, with mottled legs and a tartan costume, who was
frisking about between his grandpapa's legs, who heartily wished him at
home.

"My dear," his face seemed to say to his lady, "I think you might have
left the little things in the nursery, for we shall have to squeeze
through a terrible crowd in the Champs Elysees."

The lady was going out for a day's pleasure, and her face was full of
care: she had to look first after her old mother who was walking ahead,
then after No. 4 junior with the nurse--he might fall into all sorts of
danger, wake up, cry, catch cold; nurse might slip down, or heaven knows
what. Then she had to look her husband in the face, who had gone to such
expense and been so kind for her sake, and make that gentleman believe
she was thoroughly happy; and, finally, she had to keep an eye upon No.
4 senior, who, as she was perfectly certain, was about in two minutes to
be lost for ever, or trampled to pieces in the crowd.

These events took place in a quiet little street leading into the Champs
Elysees, the entry of which we had almost reached by this time. The four
detachments above described, which had been straggling a little in their
passage down the street, closed up at the end of it, and stood for
a moment huddled together. No. 3, Miss X--, began speaking to her
companion the great-grandmother.

"Hush, my dear," said that old lady, looking round alarmed at her
daughter. "SPEAK FRENCH." And she straightway began nervously to make a
speech which she supposed to be in that language, but which was as much
like French as Iroquois. The whole secret was out: you could read it in
the grandmother's face, who was doing all she could to keep from crying,
and looked as frightened as she dared to look. The two elder ladies
had settled between them that there was going to be a general English
slaughter that day, and had brought the children with them, so that they
might all be murdered in company.

God bless you, O women, moist-eyed and tender-hearted! In those gentle
silly tears of yours there is something touches one, be they never so
foolish. I don't think there were many such natural drops shed that day
as those which just made their appearance in the grandmother's eyes, and
then went back again as if they had been ashamed of themselves, while
the good lady and her little troop walked across the road. Think how
happy she will be when ni