rld to the Old.

And one was dark, with tints of violet
In hair and eyes, and one was blond as she
Who rose--a second daybreak--from the sea,
Gold-tressed and azure-eyed.

Nell, the elder, was tall and fair, like her father, rather sedate, with
not quite the sparkle of Susie, two years her junior, the counterpart of
the little mother whom she had never seen. And both were erect and
bright-eyed as only American girls seem to know completely how to be;
visibly healthy, happy, and pure-minded. I should like to pause and look
at them a moment longer, for I have always been a little in love with
them myself; I should like to add to the verses of our own dear poet
certain lines of Wordsworth, of Burns, of Byron--but you, dear reader,
will recall them readily, especially if you belong, as I hope you do, to
the great and glorious fraternity of true lovers; if your heart burns
and your pulses leap at mention of a certain name, at sight of a dear
face--

There came a sudden hum of excitement from the crowd.

"Look, look!" cried Susie. "There it is!" and she clapped her glasses to
her eyes again.

Far out against the horizon appeared a smudge of smoke, which grew and
spread until those with glasses could perceive beneath it the low, dark
lines of a man-of-war. It was true then! Some had permitted themselves
to doubt the story spread so industriously by Monsieur Pelletan and his
friend, the notary--the proprietor of the Grand Hotel Splendide had
counselled scepticism. Now they could doubt no longer, and they drew a
deep breath. A ship of war at Weet-sur-Mer!

Straight toward the beach she steamed, looming larger and ever larger;
then her speed slackened, slackened, until at last she lay rolling
quietly a quarter of a mile off-shore. A shrill piping came over the
water as the crew was mustered amidships and the boarding-stairs
lowered.

"Well, he _must_ be a swell!" said Sue, "or they wouldn't take all that
trouble. There goes the boat."

And splash it went into the water, the crew tumbled in, and two men
slowly helped another down the stairs, while the crew stood at
attention. Some baggage was lowered, then the oars dipped together and a
little spurt of foam appeared under the bow.

"Why, it's like a moving-picture machine!" cried Susie, with a little
gasp of enjoyment. "Or a comic opera!" she added, wrestling with her
glasses to get them focussed on the moving boat. "The hero's sitting in
the stern," she annou