—­No. 4, senior, with mottled legs and a tartan costume, who was frisking about between his grandpapa’s legs, who heartily wished him at home.

“My dear,” his face seemed to say to his lady, “I think you might have left the little things in the nursery, for we shall have to squeeze through a terrible crowd in the Champs Elysees.”

The lady was going out for a day’s pleasure, and her face was full of care:  she had to look first after her old mother who was walking ahead, then after No. 4 junior with the nurse—­he might fall into all sorts of danger, wake up, cry, catch cold; nurse might slip down, or heaven knows what.  Then she had to look her husband in the face, who had gone to such expense and been so kind for her sake, and make that gentleman believe she was thoroughly happy; and, finally, she had to keep an eye upon No. 4 senior, who, as she was perfectly certain, was about in two minutes to be lost for ever, or trampled to pieces in the crowd.

These events took place in a quiet little street leading into the Champs Elysees, the entry of which we had almost reached by this time.  The four detachments above described, which had been straggling a little in their passage down the street, closed up at the end of it, and stood for a moment huddled together.  No. 3, Miss X—­, began speaking to her companion the great-grandmother.

“Hush, my dear,” said that old lady, looking round alarmed at her daughter.  “Speak French.”  And she straightway began nervously to make a speech which she supposed to be in that language, but which was as much like French as Iroquois.  The whole secret was out:  you could read it in the grandmother’s face, who was doing all she could to keep from crying, and looked as frightened as she dared to look.  The two elder ladies had settled between them that there was going to be a general English slaughter that day, and had brought the children with them, so that they might all be murdered in company.

God bless you, O women, moist-eyed and tender-hearted!  In those gentle silly tears of yours there is something touches one, be they never so foolish.  I don’t think there were many such natural drops shed that day as those which just made their appearance in the grandmother’s eyes, and then went back again as if they had been ashamed of themselves, while the good lady and her little troop walked across the road.  Think how happy she will be when night comes, and there has been no murder of English, and the brood is all nestled under her wings sound asleep, and she is lying awake thanking God that the day and its pleasures and pains are over.  Whilst we were considering these things, the grandfather had suddenly elevated No. 4 senior upon his left shoulder, and I saw the tartan hat of that young gentleman, and the bamboo cane which had been transferred to him, high over the heads of the crowd on the opposite side through which the party moved.