“The waiter with the long black side-whiskers tore up-stairs and grabbed his arms full of those bottles in the racks—­you know—­those fire-extinguishing bottles that have some kind of chemical stuff in them.  There was a strong smell of smoke and a little puff of it curling up from under the stairs.  He threw all those bottles down into the lower hall.  You can imagine the smash there was when they struck the stone floor.

“Papa rushed down to investigate, at the first alarm.  He found that it was only Howl and Henny playing hook-and-ladder with a little red wagon.  They had taken an old flannel blouse of Kenny’s and set fire to it.  Howl explained that they did it because woollen rags make such a nice thick smoke, and last a long time, and when they yelled fire they were not to blame, he said, if other people didn’t know that they were ‘jes’ a-playin’, and went and yelled in earnest.’

“Papa took their part, and said that two boys with as much energy as they have must find an outlet somewhere, and that it was no wonder that they were restless, cooped up in a hotel day after day, with no amusement but their prim walks with the maid and the poodle.  But the old gentleman who had been so frightened that he ran out in public without his teeth, and the woman who had thrown her toilet bottles out of the window and broken them, were furious.  They complained to the landlord, and said that it was not the first offence.  The boys were always annoying them.

“So the landlord had to go to Mrs. Sattawhite.  She found out what the old gentleman said, that a mother who had to go travelling around all over Europe, giving her time and attention to society and a miserable poodle, had better put her children in an orphan asylum before she started.  She was so indignant that I could hear her talking away down in the office.  She said that she would leave the instant that Fanchette could get the trunks packed.  So there they go.”

Mrs. Sattawhite had sailed back to the office during the telling of Eugenia’s story, so their departure was delayed a moment.  When she came out again, Fidelia followed her sulkily.  Just as they drove off, she looked up at the open window, and saw the girls, who were waving good-bye.  Then a smile flickered across her sorry little face, for, moved by some sudden impulse, the Little Colonel leaned out and threw her a kiss.

“I suppose I’ll nevah see her again,” she said, thoughtfully, as the carriage rolled around a corner, out of sight.  “I wish now that I had been niceah to her.  We may both change evah so much by the time we are grown, yet if I live to be a hundred I’ll always think of her as the girl who was so quarrelsome that the English lady groaned, ’Oh, those dreadful American children!’ And I suppose she’ll remembah me for the high and mighty way I tried to snub her whenevah I had a chance.”