"I have not the least idea, I tell you. Perhaps Mr. Brion knows." "No," said Mr. Brion. "He is a perfect stranger to me." "He is a new arrival, I suppose," said Elizabeth, stealing a backward glance at her hero, whom the others were watching intently as he walked away. "Yes, he can have but just arrived, for he saw the last stone put to the building of Cologne Cathedral, and that was not more than six or seven weeks ago. He has come out to see the Exhibition, probably. He seems to be a great traveller." "Oh," said Eleanor, turning with a grimace to Patty, "here have we been mooning about in the gardens, and she has been seeing everything, and having adventures into the bargain!" "It is very little I have seen," her elder sister remarked, "and this will tell you the nature of my adventures"--and she showed them a rent in her gown. "I was nearly torn to pieces by the crowd after you left. I am only too thankful you were out of it." "But we are not at all thankful," pouted Eleanor. "Are we, Patty?" (Patty was silent, but apparently amiable.) "It is only the stitching that is undone--you can mend it in five minutes. We wouldn't have minded little trifles of that sort--not in the least--to have seen the procession, and made the acquaintance of distinguished travellers. Were there many more of them about, do you suppose?" "O no," replied Elizabeth, promptly. "Only he." "And you managed to find him! Why shouldn't we have found him too--Patty and I? Do tell us his name, Elizabeth, and how you happened on him, and what he has been saying and doing." "He took care of me, dear--that's all. I was crushed almost into a pulp, and he allowed me to--to stand beside him until the worst of it was over." "How interesting!" ejaculated Eleanor. "And then he talked to you about Cologne Cathedral?" "Yes. But never mind about him. Tell me where Mr. Brion found you, and what you have been doing." "Oh, _we_ have not been doing anything--far from it. I _wish_ you knew his name, Elizabeth." "But, my dear, I don't. So leave off asking silly questions. I daresay we shall never see or hear of him again." "Oh, don't you believe it! I'm _certain_ we shall see him again. He will be at the Exhibition some day when we go there--to-morrow, very likely." "Well, well, never mind. What are we going to do now?" They consulted with Paul for a few minutes, and he took them where they could get a distant view of the crowds swarming around the Exhibition, and hear the confused clamour of the bands--which seemed to gratify the two younger sisters very much, in the absence of more pronounced excitement. They walked about until they saw the Royal Standard hoisted over the great dome, and heard the saluting guns proclaim that the Exhibition was open; and then they returned to Myrtle Street, with a sense of having had breakfast in the remote past, and of having spent an enormously long morning not unpleasantly, upon the whole.