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 What is so delicious as one's own tongue delicately mispronounced byabeautiful woman? So thought the ambassador and made her his best bow. He turned to Cointreau.

"Certainly you can't pretend that America has any monopoly of pretty girls."

"Speaking for de League, I am happy to state dat no contry has monopoly of good fortune," replied the Colonel readily. "Tanks to de brodigality of nature, dere is gonsolation everywheres."

Nyla reproved her father for having kept Herr Quackenbush talking when it was time to dress for dinner. The President appealed to his adviser with his eyes, but saw no sign of encouragement. When the two statesmen had gone, the Colonel began a graceful speech about Nyla's costume, but she cut him short.

"Gene," she said mysteriously, "you understand about Americans, perhaps you can help."

"What's the trouble?"

"I know it sounds silly, but—do you suppose Frau Quackenbush has a secret sorrow?"