There was a particular reason for today’s excursion, which took place upon a Saturday forever to be remembered. The Supreme Council of the Peace Conference was to have its first meeting.
Although the Conference was not to assemble until afternoon, by twelve o’clock the Camp Fire party found the streets crowded with sight-seers, soldiers and civilians, men and women of many nations.
Foreigners who had been living in Paris during the four years of the war, with Germany sometimes knocking almost at her gates, had found a new characteristic in the Latin city. The Paris of the first few days of the great war, with her sudden burst of passion and unrestraint, had altered to a soberer Paris. Calm under attack, even under apparent defeat, she had given the world an extraordinary example of courage and steadfastness.
As Paris had borne her discomfiture, so she bore her present triumph.
Today the girls were surprised to find how little excitement there seemed to be in spite of the number of people to be seen.
The Allied representatives, who formed the Supreme Council of the Peace Conference, were to have a warm and hospitable welcome from the citizens of Paris. But there was no evidence of the spontaneous joy and enthusiasm which had greeted President and Mrs. Wilson several weeks before upon their first arrival in the city.
After an early luncheon the Camp Fire party went directly to a house near the Quai d’Orsay where Senator Duval had secured them seats upon a little balcony overlooking the bridge and the long windows of the “Salle de la Paix,” in the French Foreign Office, where the formal opening of the Conference would take place.
From their places on the veranda they could look down upon the spectators swarming back and forth, but restrained by the double line of French gendarmes who were to keep the streets clear for the approach of the delegates.
The winter afternoon was unexpectedly brilliant with a clear blue sky and bright sunshine. Far up and down the River Seine were the series of beautiful bridges which connect the two sides of the City of Paris. Little boats were riding peacefully at anchor near the quais. Glancing upward one beheld the skyline of the golden and white city. As many of the houses and public buildings of Paris are built either of white stone or yellow cement, Paris often appears white and gold in the sunlight.
“Do you think we will be able to recognize the delegations as they drive toward the Foreign Office?” Peggy Webster inquired a little breathlessly. In spite of her ordinary self control she had lost her usual color and was pale with emotion.