He sent her to school in Germany.
During the early years of her schooldays Betty had observed that America appeared upon the whole to be regarded by her schoolfellows principally as a place to which the more unfortunate among the peasantry emigrated as steerage passengers when things could become no worse for them in their own country.

The United States was not mentally detached from any other portion of the huge Western Continent.

Quite well-educated persons spoke casually of individuals having "gone to America," as if there were no particular difference between Brazil and Massachusetts.
"I wonder if you ever saw my cousin Gaston," a French girl once asked her as they sat at their desks.

"He became very poor through ill living.
He was quite without money and he went to America." "To New York ?" inquired Bettina.
"I am not sure.

The town is called Concepcion." "That is not in the United States," Betty answered disdainfully.