"Our country is older than Germany, besides----" "It _isn't_, my blessed child." "It is, Gertrude--our civilisation." "Oh, civilisation." "Engländerin, Engländerin," mocked Bertha. "Englishwooman, very Englishwooman," echoed Elsa Speier. "Well, I _am_ Engländerin," said Millie, blushing crimson. "Would you rather the street-boys called Engländerin after you or they didn't?" "Oh, Jimmie," said Solomon impatiently. "I wasn't asking you, Solomon." "What means Solomon, with her 'Oh, Djimmee,' 'oh, Djim_mee_'?" Solomon stirred heavily and looked up, flushing, her eyes avoiding the German arbours. "Na, Solemn," laughed Fräulein Pfaff. "Oh well, of course, Fräulein." Solomon sat in a crimson tide, bridling. "Solomon likes not Germans." "Go on, Elsa," rattled Bertha. "Germans are all right, me dear. I think it's rather a lark when they sing out Engländerin. I always want to yell 'Ya!'" "Likewise 'Boo!' Come on, Mill, we're all waiting." "Well, you _know_ I don't like it, Jimmie." "_Why?_" "Because it makes me forget I'm in Germany and only remember I've got to go back." "My hat, Mill, you're a queer mixture!" "But, Millie, best child, it's just the very thing that makes you know you're here." "It doesn't me, Gertrude." "What is English towns looking like," said Elsa Speier. No one seemed ready to take up this challenge. "Like other towns I suppose," laughed Jimmie. "Our Millie is glad to be in Germany," ruled Fräulein, rising. "She and I agree--I go most gladly to England. Gairtrud is neither English nor German. Perhaps she looks down upon us all." "Of course I do," roared Gertrude, crossing her knees and tilting her chair. "What do you think. Was denkt ihr? I am a barbarian." "A stranger." "Still we of the wild are the better men." "Ah. We end then with a quotation from our dear Schiller. Come, children." "What's that from?" Miriam asked of Gertrude as they wandered up the garden. "'The Räuber.' Magnificent thing. Play. We saw it last winter." "I don't believe she really cares for it a bit," was Miriam's mental comment. Her heart was warm towards Millie, looking so outlandish with her English vicarage air in this little German beer-garden, with her strange love of Germany. Of course there wasn't anything a bit like Germany in England.... So silly to make comparisons. "Comparisons are odious." Perfectly true. 16