“I want every one to see my lovely presents,” Miss Gertrude had said, so the guests exclaimed over the pretty things grouped in the library.

It was all simple and happy, and a bit of pathos at the end of the afternoon brought no depression.  Gertrude was just about to go upstairs to change her dress and she stood with her maids and ushers, around her, exchanging a laughing word or two with them, when a little procession made its way toward her from the dining-room.  It consisted of all the women and children from Rose House, dressed in the fresh clothes which the women had made for themselves and the children during the summer.  They were all so smiling that they could hardly have been recognized as the forlorn creatures who had come to Rosemont early in July.  Each woman held in her hand a centrepiece, embroidered in the characteristic work of her country.

Mrs. Vereshchagin led the way, because she could speak English a little better than the others, but her English failed her when she came face to face with the bride.

“We love you,” she said simply, making a sweeping gesture that included the bridegroom and all the U. S. C. members who were standing about.  “We give you these embroideries of our lands.  We love all of you.”

And all the women and children cried in chorus, “We love all of you.”