CHAPTER XXII.
Home "Les plus genereux sont toujours ceux qui n'ont rien." The events in France, stupendous in themselves, seemed to have shaken the nerves of nations.

That great sleeping Bear of the North roused itself, and in its clumsy awakening put a heavy paw through the Treaty of Paris.

The Americans--our brothers in thought, speech and energetic purpose--raised a great cry against us in that we had allowed the ill-fated Alabama to leave our shores equipped for destruction.

There was a spirit of strife and contention in the atmosphere of the world.
Friendly nations nursed an imaginary grievance against their neighbours, and those that had one brought it out, as a skeleton from a cupboard, and inspected it in public.
In a school playground the rumour of a fight stirs latent passions, and doubles many a peaceful fist.

France and Prussia, grasping each other by the throat, seemed to have caused such an electric disturbance in the atmosphere of Europe, and many Englishmen were for fighting some one--they did not care whom.
During this disturbed spring of 1871, Madame de Clericy and Lucille returned to Hopton, where a warm and pleasant April made them admit that the English climate was not wholly bad.