“And we shall see them, Paulette and Odette, too?”
“Surely.”
“How wonderful, how wonderful! It may be that some of my own kin will be among them, although I have no means of finding out. I like to think it, however. Shall you have friends among them?”
“I think so and I shall look out for them, though I shall be so excited I doubt if I can distinguish any one.”
It took some diplomacy for Miss Lowndes to house these newcomers properly. Lucie she bore off to her own boarding house, Paulette and Odette were lodged near by with one Hortense Morand who kept the bakery from which Miss Lowndes’ rolls were served, and who, considering that it was for an exile, was willing to take in not only these two lodgers but the hens, the rabbits and the pigeons.
But if it was difficult to find lodgings for the little party, so much the more was it so to find a vantage point from which they could view the newly arrived troops. All Paris was agog. The streets were crowded, flags were flying, bands were playing. “I suppose there is nothing for us but to mix with the common herd,” declared Miss Lowndes, “and stand on the sidewalk. After all there might be a worse place, for we shall be nearer to the boys than higher up. Here, Lucie, pin on this little American flag. You, too, Paulette, and you, Odette. I think I can make myself known as an American and perhaps we shall receive some consideration in being given room.”
This proved not a bad idea, for they were allowed the edge of a curbstone when Miss Lowndes betrayed her nationality by her speech. They stood patiently for a long time, but at last the cheers began away down the street, growing nearer and nearer. There was enthusiasm enough for their own brave fellows, but when the tall, gaunt, clear-eyed young Americans came marching by, the crowd went wild. They cheered, they wept, they babbled fond blessings. They strewed flowers, they thrust gifts of chocolate into the hands of the smiling lads. They danced to the tune of Dixie; they laughed and kept time with the catchy ragtime music of the bands. The city was taken by storm, for these boys represented not only young America, but the inspirers of a new courage which should lead the way to peace.
Nora Lowndes forgot who she was, where she was, what she was. She was conscious only that these were her countrymen who had come for righteousness’ sake to give their best to France. “Bless every one of you,” she called out, and they, noting the familiar speech, cast smiling glances at her out of the corners of their eyes.
“It was worth waiting for,” sighed Miss Lowndes when the last man had passed. “I am sure I must have known some of them, but I was too dazed to tell. It is a great thing to leave Paris with such a memory as that.”
“I shall remember it forever,” Lucie answered. “I was never so proud of my mother’s country as I am to-day.”