“Adieu.  You say, pray for you; oh, let us all pray together.  I hope we shall yet find dear Pickie where he is; that earthly blemishes will be washed out, and he be able to love us all.  Till then, God help and guide us, dear friend.  Amen.

“M.  F. O.

“You may address me in future as Marchioness Ossoli.”

CHAPTER XXII.

The Friends’ Seminary—­The Principal Chappaqua Residences—­Reminiscences of Paris during the War—­An Accomplished Lady—­Her Voice—­Festivities—­A Drive to Rye Lake—­Making Tea on the Beach—­A Sail at Sunset—­Fortune-telling by Firelight—­The Drive Home—­Sunday Morning—­A Row on the Pond—­Dramatic Representations in the Barn—­A Drive to Lake Wampas—­Starlight Row.

August 24.

A visit last night from Mr. Collins, the Principal of Chappaqua Institute.  This gentleman is one of our neighbors; so when the duties of school hours are over, he frequently calls in to play a game of croquet, or to join in the evening rubber of whist, of which Marguerite and Gabrielle are so fond.  I had often heard his name before he was introduced to us, and imagined, from his responsible position, that he must be some staid, gray-haired Quaker; but, upon meeting him, I was surprised to discover that, although Principal of the “Friends’ Seminary,” he belonged to the “world’s people”; and was quite young enough to impress the more susceptible among his young lady pupils.

August 27.

In speaking of the handsome residences about and near Chappaqua, I have unintentionally overlooked one of the finest among them.  It is situated about half-way between Chappaqua and Mount Kisco; and so far as I can judge by a view from the road, the grounds are both extensive and well cultivated.  The house stands back from the road, and is quite imbedded in trees, and the lawn and flower-beds are very prettily laid out.

Upon asking Bernard one day, as we were driving to Mount Kisco, to whom this place belonged, he said that he had forgotten the owner’s name, but believed he was now in Europe; and it was not until quite recently that I ascertained it was the property of Mr. Elliott O. Cowdin, of New York City, Paris, or Westchester County.  I really do not know which place to accredit to him as his residence.

Yesterday Mr. Cowdin dined with us, and we had quite a merry time recalling our adventures upon leaving Paris in 1870.  It was only three days before the battle of Sedan, when every one was rushing away from the doomed city, that we also decided to leave; and Mr. Cowdin was very kind in helping us off.  We had many tribulations and delays in procuring our tickets, and having our luggage registered, for thousands were waiting in the Gare St. Lazare to escape from the range of Prussian shells; but between the energy of Mr. Cowdin and his servant Harry, and the talismanic name of Washburne (for our ambassador had