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Page 31
"But America is not a barbarous continent, Suzanne, at least some of it
is not. I have heard that in the eastern part of their country many of
them act very much as we do, and we have seen those in Paris who appear
to be quite civilized. And Suzanne, often they are rich, very rich.
Before I left Paris the second time I made it a point to inquire about
this young man, and I discovered that he had an immensely wealthy uncle,
whose sole heir he is."
"Ah!" said Suzanne, making a long intake of the breath. It was easier
than she had thought for John to become French.
"And the fortunes of the house of Lannes are moderate now, as you and I
know quite well, Suzanne," continued the wise Antoine. "Surely it must
have occurred to Madame her mother, when our little Mademoiselle Julie
was yet but a beautiful young child, that she might make a great
marriage some day. In this world of ours, Suzanne, many millions of good
francs should not be allowed to escape from France."
"It is so, my father," said Suzanne. "France will need numberless
millions when this war is over. Here is the vinegar for the salad. Not
too much. Mademoiselle Julie likes only a little of it. What fortune it
was to find a hotel furnished with everything! The faint sighing sound
that still comes on the wind, is it not that of the guns, my father?"
"Aye, Suzanne, it's that of the cannon thundering far away, but
Mademoiselle Julie and Mr. Scott have forgotten all about it, and it
would be a pity to recall them to it."
Suzanne nodded. For a little space she, too, was compelled to relax. The
salad now being complete she served it herself, and as she did so she
relaxed still further, murmuring that they were just boy and girl
together, but that they were very handsome. She had lifted two of the
candles and put them upon the table, their light touching Julie's hair
of deep gold with a ruddy tint and heightening the brilliant color of
her cheeks. The heavy curtains before the window near them had been
looped back a little, and the glass revealed the snow pouring down like
a cataract, but they did not see it.
"It's the best dinner I ever ate," said John.
"Now you are finding what capable people Antoine and Suzanne are," said
Julie.
"I give them all the credit due them," said John, as he made mental
reservations.
"They're wonderfully capable, but it will always be Antoine's bitter
regret that he does not serve in this war. If he could, he would be glad
to represent himself fifteen years younger than he really is."
"His chance will come. Again I say to myself, Miss Julie, what luck I
had in arriving at Chastel!"
"And it was lucky for us, too. We need your courage and resource, Mr.
John. I know that Philip cannot come today or tonight and perhaps not
tomorrow."
"In that event, what plans have you, Miss Julie?"
"To remain in Chastel. We have an excellent hotel here at our service,
and as we're behind the French army we're in perfect safety."
John opened his lips to speak, but changed his intention and did not say
what was in his thought. He said instead:
"Antoine is looking unusually important. He is going to serve us wine.
He has mineral water, too. Will you take a little of it with your wine?
It's a white wine, and the water improves it for me."
"Yes, Mr. John, I'll take mine the same way."
Any dinner, although it may have a flavor which the food and drink
themselves, no matter how good, cannot give, must draw to an end, and
when the dessert had been served and eaten John looped back the heavy
curtain still further and looked out at the white cataract.
"The snowfall will certainly continue the rest of the day," he said,
"and perhaps all through the night. Suppose we go to the smoking-room.
Antoine and Suzanne must eat also. It's their hour now."
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