The children skate on roller skates along the streets, and on the asphalte paths of the parks.  There is a delightful happy-go-lucky-way about everything.  In the country trains cross the roads with no gates to keep people off the track, and in every branch of life you have to look out for yourself and learn self-reliance.

We are so amused because Octavia is considered to have “an English accent,” and mine not so strong, the papers say.  What can an “English accent” be, Mamma?  Since English came from England and is till spoken as we do, there would be some logic in saying “an American accent,” but what can an “English” one be!  One might as sensibly remark upon a Frenchman from Paris having a French accent, or a German from Berlin.

I suppose it must be the climate which obliges people to make such disagreeable throat-clearing noises.  In any public place it is absolutely distressing, and makes one creep with disgust.

At all the restaurants we have been to, the food is most excellent, and they have such delightfully original dishes and ways of serving things.  There are not such quantities of “coloured gentlemen” as one supposed, about; and they don’t have them even for servants in the big hotels, but at a smaller one, where Southern people go, and we went to call on some-one, there were lots of them; and they have such gentle voices and good manners I like them.

Yesterday Octavia and I went to a “department store” to buy, among other things, some of their lovely ready-made costumes to take out West with us, and it was so amusing; the young ladies at the ribbon counter were chatting with the young ladies at the flowers, divided by a high set of drawers, so they had to climb up or speak through the passage opening.  Presently after we had tried to attract their attention, one condescended to serve us, while she finished her conversation with her friend round the corner perfectly indifferent as to our wants, or if we bought or not!  The friend surveyed us and chewed gum.  But when we got to the costume salon, they were most polite.  Two perfect dears attended to us, and were so sympathetic as to our requirements, and talked intelligently and well on outside subjects.  Octavia and I felt we were leaving old friends when we went.  Why should you be rude measuring off ribbons, and polite showing clothes?

To-morrow we go to Philadelphia to stay with Kitty Bond, who as you know isn’t so colossally rich as the rest, but just as nice as Valerie; and they have a house which has been there for a hundred years, so it will be interesting to see the difference.

The Vicomte has been good and docile.  I have not had to keep him in order once, but he comes round all the time, and when he thinks people are looking he gazes devotedly at Octavia, and everyone thinks he is her affair.  Isn’t it intelligent of him, Mamma?

I am glad you have not scolded me about Harry and our quarrel in your last letter; but there is no use your being angry with him and saying he behaved like a brute.  He did not, a bit, because it really was my fault, principally; only it’s all just as well, as I should never have been allowed to come here if it had not happened, and I am enjoying myself and seeing the world.