With tender emotion he essays to quiet our alarm, managing at last to emit words that sounded like “Welcome, Unions!” For a moment I wonder if other Americans are here lost before us. Then we bow low in reply. Assured of our trust in him he takes charge and lifts us from our ruined vehicle to another, standing near, which is no less than a great white albatross, one of many now being mounted by the throng. Robes are drawn about us, after we are presented to a lady, also in his charge, who, with less success, attempts the words he first used. Feeling quite among friends, as he lifts a feather-tufted guiding wand resting on the bird’s head, I turn to the lady by my side, whose first glance, as though in bitterness, before our arrival, has changed to liveliest sociability in gestures, nods and smiles upon Mae, who is cuddled in her lap. With womanly curiosity I essay to learn the city’s name. Understanding my desire she essayed to reply, in cordial, harmonious tones, “Arc.” Farther inquiry in my eyes, I get the farther delineation, “It circles Aurora,” meaning, no doubt, the electric centre. Content with this, I scan the dimensions growing, as we approach, and ride high above, the snowy pinions of the bird throng clouding the air. Courts are numerous, covered with great glass domes and domes rolled back. As we turn down to one of these I hear father whisper to our host, “How do you know English?” With effort he kindly gives the following: “My father, when younger, explored a great deal upon the iceberg sea around. Venturing too far one day, he became lost in an island garden, to find camped there a people like you, who fed and cared for him.” How simple; his kindness is in gratitude. “But where are the people?” father farther inquired. “I do not know. He became lost again from them to find his own city.” Alighting, we are led through conservatory halls to an apartment-like hall. Of great magnificence, it is yet quite homelike, with great cushions strewn about that are seats for the great people but beds in size for us. I fall on one and am soon fast asleep. Awaking partially, a melody is soothing my senses. Sitting up, I see a fountain whence issues the sounds. In it I bathe face and hands, when the water, acting medicinal, I feel revived and buoyant, also quite hungry. Father and Charley are talking, the latter ending with “It suits me.” Mae, still asleep, talks spasmodically. “Oh, auntie! Oh, mamma!” At the last a pain enters my heart, never more to leave. Opening her eyes, she slowly takes in the situation. Seeing the pain in my face, she throws her arms about my neck and says, gently, “No matter, auntie; it is a sweet place here, anyway.”