not had enough experience of life--but I own to you I distrust very
high-flown declarations, and as a rule I like the men who do generous
things, and don't think themselves heroes for doing them."

"Remember, George, it was a Frenchman who spoke thus; and from what
I have seen of his nation, I would say that he meant all that he said.
These people do the very finest things out of an exalted self-esteem.
They carry the point of honor so high that there is no sacrifice they
are not capable of making, if it only serve to elevate their opinion of
themselves. Their theory is, they belong to the 'great nation,' and the
motives that would do well enough for you or me would be very ignoble
springs of action to him whom Providence had blessed with the higher
destiny of being born a Frenchman."

"You disparage while you praise them, Julia."

"I do not mean it, then. I would simply say, I believe in all Count
Praoontal said, and I give you my reason for the belief."

"How happy it would have made poor Augustus to have been met in this
spirit! Why don't these two men know each other?"

"My dear George, the story of life could no more go on than the story
of a novel if there was no imbroglio. Take away from the daily course of
events all misunderstandings, all sorrows, and all misconceptions, and
there would be no call on humanity for acts of energy, or trustfulness,
or devotion. We want all these things just that we may surmount them."

Whether he did not fully concur with the theory, or that it puzzled him,
L'Estrange made no reply, and soon after left the room to prepare for
their departure. And now they went the road up the valley of the Upper
Rhine--that wild and beautiful tract, so grand in outline and so rich
in color, that other landscapes seem cold after it. They wound along
the Via Mala, and crossed over the Splugen, most picturesque of Alpine
passes, and at last reached Chiavenna.

"All this is very enjoyable, George," said Julia, as they strolled
carelessly in a trellised vine-walk; "but as I am the courier, and
carry the money-sack, it is my painful duty to say, we can't do it much
longer. Do you know how much remains in that little bag?"

"A couple of hundred francs perhaps," said he, listlessly.

"Not half that--how could there, you careless creature? You forget
all the extravagances we have been committing, and this entire week of
unheard-of indulgence."

'I was always 'had up' for my arithmetic at school.