“I wouldn’t have said it for anything,” says No. 1. “I was thinking how I would add a few words for her to my London cable,—that’s a fact.”
“It is very foolish of me, pray excuse me,” says the lady; “it is all so new and strange. I know my eyes are red, and this is not the sort of face to go into New York with, is it?”
“I think New York will be quite satisfied, Miss Terry,” says a third reporter; “but don’t let us distress you.”
“Oh, no, I am quite myself now. You want to ask me some questions?”
“Not if you object.”
“I don’t object; only you see one has been looking forward to this day a long time, and seeing land again and houses, and so many ships, and New York itself, may well excite a stranger.”
“Yes, indeed, that is so,” remarks No. 1, upon whom she turns quickly, the “Liberty” scarf at her neck flying in the wind, and her earnest eyes flashing.
“Have you ever felt what it is to be a stranger just entering a strange land? If not you can hardly realize my sensations. Not that I have any fears about my reception. No, it is not that; the Americans on the ship were so kind to me, and you are so very considerate, that I am sure everybody ashore will be friendly.”
“Do you know Miss Anderson?”