d the grand marriage she had made with the rich American, who
afterward abandoned her. That was the way they worded it, and they
remembered too, the little girl, Jerrine, whom, after her mother's
death, the nurse, Nannine, took to her father's friends, since which
nothing had been heard from her. Thus, had there been in Arthur's mind
any doubt as to Jerrie's identity, it would have been swept away; but
there was none. He had accepted her from the first as his daughter, and
he always looked up to her as a child to its mother whom it fears to
lose sight of.

The winter was mostly spent in Rome, where Harold and Jerrie explored
every part of the city, while Arthur staid in his room talking to an
unseen Gretchen, who afforded him almost as much satisfaction as the
real one might have done. In May they visited the lakes and in June
drifted to Paris, where Jerrie was overjoyed to meet Nina and Dick, who
were staying with the Raymonds at a charming chateau just outside the
city. Here she and Harold passed a most enjoyable week, and before she
left she was made happy by something which she saw and which told her
that Dick was forgetting that night under the pines, and that some day
not far in the future he would find in Marian all he had once hoped to
find in her. In Paris, too, she came one day upon Ann Eliza at the Bon
Marche, with silks and satins piled high around her, and two or three
obsequious clerks in attendance, for La Petite Americaine, who bought so
lavishly everything she saw and fancied, was well known to the
tradespeople, who eagerly sought her patronage and that of my lord
monsieur, who inspired them greatly with his air of importance and
dignity. Tom was enjoying himself immensely, and was really a good deal
improved and a good deal in love with his little wife, whom he always
addressed as Petite or Madame, and who was quite a belle and a general
favorite in the American colony. Following a fashion, which Tom was sure
had been made for his benefit, she had cut off her obnoxious red hair
and substituted in its place a wig of reddish brown, which for
naturalness and beauty was a marvel of art and skill, and became her so
well that Tom really thought her handsome, or at least very stylish and
stunning, which was better than mere beauty. They had a suite of rooms
at the Continental, and there Harold and Jerrie dined with them in their
private parlor, for Tom was quite too fine a gentleman to go to _table
d'hote_ wi