“For years she was too ill to push the work she had set for herself.  When her strength at last returned, she had to learn to walk.  At last, however, she succeeded.  America signed the treaty.  Then, through her efforts, the American National Red Cross was organized.  She was made president of it.  While no war, until lately, has called for its services, the Red Cross has found plenty to do in times of great national calamities.  You have had terrible fires and floods, cyclones, and scourges of yellow fever.  Then too, it has taken relief to Turkey and lately has found work in Cuba.

“I know that you would like to look into Miss Barton’s jewel-box.  Old Emperor William himself gave her the Iron Cross of Prussia.  The Grand Duke and Duchess of Baden sent her the Gold Cross of Remembrance.  Medals and decorations from many sovereigns are there—­the Queen of Servia, the Sultan of Turkey, the Prince of Armenia.  Never has any American woman been so loved and honored abroad, and never has an American woman been more worthy of respect at home.  It must be a great joy to her now, as she sits in the evening of life, to count her jewels of remembrance, and feel that she has done so much to win the gratitude of her fellow creatures.

“You came to visit Switzerland because it is the home of many heroes; but let me tell you, my child, this little republic has more to show the world than its William Tell chapels and its Lion of Lucerne.  As long as the old town of Geneva stands, the world will not forget that here was given a universal banner of peace, and here was signed its greatest treaty—­the treaty of the Red Cross.”

As the Major stopped, the Little Colonel looked up at the white cross floating above the pier, and then down at the red one on Hero’s collar, and drew a long breath.

“I wish I could do something like that!” she exclaimed, earnestly.  “I used to wish that I could go out like Joan of Arc to do some great thing that would make people write books about me, and carve me on statues, and paint pictures and sing songs in my honah, but I believe that now I’d rathah do something bettah than ride off to battle on a prancin’ white chargah.  Thank you, Majah, for tellin’ me the story.  I’m goin’ for a walk now.  May I take Hero?”

A few minutes later the two were wandering along beside the water together, the Little Colonel dreaming day-dreams of valiant deeds that she might do some day, so that kings would send her a Gold Cross of Remembrance, and men would say with uncovered heads, as the old Major had done, “If America ever writes a woman’s name in her temple of fame, that one should be the name of Lloyd Sherman—­The Little Colonel!”

* * * * *

[Illustration:  “THE TWO WERE WANDERING ALONG BESIDE THE WATER TOGETHER”]

When the time came for the Shermans to move on, the Major was their travelling companion.  But at Zug, several weeks later, it was necessary for him to stop and send for his niece to accompany him to a hospital at Zuerich.  He had been caught in a sudden storm on the mountainside and struck by a limb of a falling tree.  If Hero had not led a party of rescuers to him from the hotel he would have died before morning, but they were in time to save him.