and help him choose furniture for
it. She thought Louis XVI. style very suitable for one _salon_, and
proposed Renaissance style for the library, and Empire for the
gallery, and so forth. Mr. Walsh said, in his dry way, "You must
really not bother so much, madame; plain Tommy Walsh is good enough
for me." After which she lost interest in him and gave him up.

We were horrified to hear of King Humbert's assassination at Monza. He
was such a good man and loved his country so devotedly. To be struck
down by one of his own people seems too cruel. How dreadful for Queen
Margherita!

Court mourning is ordered for three weeks.

PARIS, _1900_.

Dear L.,--Just a few lines from me to-day to answer your question, O
merciless and adorable friend! Dreyfus has been brought back from the
dreadful island where he has been confined these last five years. Five
years of torture! He was taken to Rennes to be tried. His lawyer,
Labori, has driven the judges almost out of their senses.

The sensational attacks of Zola and his sudden "_J'accuse_," the
suicide of Henry, the repeated demissions of the Ministers and
Generals, _la femme Voilee_, the disappearance of Esterhazy (stamped
as a first-class scamp), the attempt to get Labori's papers by
shooting him--the ludicrous and tragic episodes have at last come to
an end. Dreyfus is declared innocent, and people are beginning to
realize what has happened.

Bjoernstjerne Bjoernson, the famous Norwegian poet, has, from the
beginning, taken Dreyfus's defense and written article after article
in the papers and proclaimed in every manner his belief in his
innocence. He hurried to Paris when he heard that Dreyfus had
returned. We were very glad when an invitation came from the Swedish
Minister (Mr. Ackermann) to lunch with the great author. I wish that
you could see him, for to see him is to know him. He has the kindest
and noblest face in the world. I wept over his account of the
interview between him and Dreyfus. The day and hour were fixed for his
visit. He found Madame Dreyfus alone. She begged him to wait a moment,
because her husband was so agitated at the thought of seeing him that
he could not trust himself to appear. When at last Dreyfus came into
the room Bjoernson opened his arms. Dreyfus fell weeping into them and
sobbed, "_Merci! Merci! Vous avez cru en moi_"--Bjoernson replied:
"_Mon ami, j'ai souffert pour vous, mon pauvre ami_." Of course, this
is only a very little part of wh