I did indeed need such a refreshment, after my long ride. My mail was already in the room, and it was with considerable satisfaction that I arrayed myself in one of the new frocks which had been made for me in London, and which, as I could not but be aware, set off to considerable advantage my slender, erect figure. Then, very well satisfied with myself, I went into my mother's room, where I found Jeanne, much refreshed in mind and body, and disposed to regard her new home with more favorable eyes. My mother was already dressed, and, seated in a great chair covered with needlework flowers in faded silks, was directing Jeanne in the unpacking of her mail and the disposition of her clothes. "You look well, my child," said she, holding out her hand to me. "Have not the lines fallen to us in pleasant places? Even Jeanne admits that the Cornish folk are Christian people, since, though they cannot speak French, they know how to make cider." "And very good cider too, madame," answered Jeanne; "and though I think them not very polite to smile at the English which I learned so well to speak in London, yet one must not expect too much of them, living as they do at the very world's end. Why, they tell me, at least that old sailor did, there is absolutely no land between the shore yonder and that savage country of America. Do you think that can be true, madame? It makes one almost afraid." "It is quite true, my Jeanne; but I see no cause for fear," answered my mother, smiling. "Some of our own people have settled in America, and are prospering well. We have even relatives abiding there. My husband and I have sometimes talked of the possibility of going thither ourselves. Is not this a pretty place, my Vevette?" "Yes, maman, very pretty, only—" and here I stopped; for something choked me, and I felt a great disposition to cry. "Only it is all strange and new, and my little one is overwrought," said my mother, kissing me. "I forget it is not a home-coming to you as to me. Yet I hope you will try to be happy here," she added, regarding me wistfully. "Indeed I will, dear maman," I answered, making a great effort to control myself, and succeeding pretty well. "I think the house is beautiful, especially this room and my own; and only think, Mother Jeanne, there is a bahut almost like yours, and my cousin Rosamond says it came from the south of France. Perhaps it was made by the same man." "That could hardly be, mamselle, for my great-grandfather made mine. He was a skilful man, I have heard say, and made many beautiful pieces for great houses." "Then why not this one? Go and look at it," said I. Jeanne obeyed, and soon came back in great excitement. "It was—it really was made by my great-grandfather, madame!" she cried. "There are the two doves pecketting on the top just the same, and the very sign—the olive-leaf marked with a circle—which he used to put on all his work. Is it not wonderful, madame? Is it not a good omen?"