ve years since you came over here? That is a long time."

"Oh, it's more than that since I came," said Mrs. Talcott. "Twenty-five
years since I lived at home. I came over first nearly fifty years ago.
Yes; it's a long time."

"Dear me; you have lived most of your life here, then."

"Yes; you may say I have."

"And don't you ever want to go back to America to stay?"

"I don't know as I do," said Mrs. Talcott.

"You're fonder of it over here, like so many of your compatriots?"

"Well, I don't know as I am," Mrs. Talcott, who had a genius it seemed
for non-committal statements, varied; and then, as though aware that her
answers might seem ungracious, she added: "All my folks are dead.
There's no reason for my wanting to go home that I can think of."

"Besides, Mrs. Talcott," Karen now helped her on, "home to you is where
Tante is, isn't it. Mrs. Talcott has lived with Tante ever since Tante
was born. No one in the world knows her as well as she does. It is
rather wonderful to think about." She had the air, finding Mrs. Talcott
appreciated, of putting forward for her her great claim to distinction.

"Yes; I know Mercedes pretty well," Mrs. Talcott conceded.

"How I love to hear about it," said Karen; "about her first concert, you
know, Mrs. Talcott, when you curled her hair--such long, bright brown
hair, she had, and so thick, falling below her waist, didn't it?" Mrs.
Talcott nodded with a certain complacency. "And she wore a little white
muslin frock and white shoes and a blue sash; she was only nine years
old; it was a great concert in Warsaw. And she didn't want her hair
curled, and combed it all out with her fingers just before going on to
the platform--didn't she?"

Mrs. Talcott was slightly smiling over these reminiscences. "Smart
little thing," she commented. "She did it the last minute so as it was
too late for me to fix it again. It made me feel dreadful her going on
to the platform with her head all mussed up like that. She looked mighty
pretty all the same."

"And she was right, too, wasn't she?" said Karen, elated, evidently, at
having so successfully drawn Mrs. Talcott out. "Her hair was never
curly, was it. It looked better straight, I'm sure."

"Well, I don't know about that," said Mrs. Talcott. "I always like it
curled best, when she was little. But I had to own to myself she looked
mighty pretty, though I was so mad at her."

"Tante has always had her own way, I imagine," said Karen, "about