Mrs. Wilson’s memories must be as rich and colourful as the lovely wine-tinted velvets and the purple-shaded brocades and crêpes that she wore on her trips with her husband while he addressed statesmen and received the loud acclaim of the masses. The King and Queen of Belgium paid them every honour, as did all of the other crowned heads, princes, and presidents wherever their journeys took them in their tour of the war-devastated nations. Showers of violets were tossed into their carriage, and every demonstration made to express the unparalleled love and esteem in which the President of the United States was held. Then he settled himself at the conference table to expound the philosophy and reason in his plan with its fourteen points. While he was honoured by the rulers of Europe, admired for his knowledge, and enjoyed for his wit, his training as an American scholar could not encompass the sophistry and diplomacy of the veteran officials of Europe. Schooled in the wiles of intrigue, with its admissions and evasions, they kept their ears to the ground for the murmur of the American public and fixed a weather eye upon the American Congress at Washington. In February, the President and Mrs. Wilson, laden with rare and costly gifts and tributes of all descriptions, turned their faces homeward. They were given a tremendous reception in Boston. After taking up the threads of his work at home for a few weeks, the President became convinced that he must return to Europe. Leaving again in March, he gave his whole mind and body to getting the Allied Peace Treaty signed, which was done June 28, 1919. Then he turned to face his most difficult task--to have the Treaty ratified at home with the League of Nations covenant incorporated. He returned to Washington in July, to be confronted by a bitter struggle with Congress. Determined to win the states by convincing the people at large, he started on his tour of the country on September 3d. Those who travelled with him recall his thoughtfulness of his party and the solace and pleasure he derived from his wife’s presence and her watchful charge of him. She could always coax a smile, and though he was weighted with cares and anxieties, his inherent wit and humour would respond to her effort to amuse him. She lived in a dread that she had to keep concealed. She knew he was breaking, and when at Wichita the collapse came that cancelled the trip and removed him from the active political stage, it was no more than the culmination of the fear that had haunted her for months.