site
style. He would bow and say '_Bon soir_,' then stand to be admired, with
the artless satisfaction of a child; after which he would smile
complacently, wave his crush hat, and depart with a flourish.

Dear, dandified, vain Gaston! His great desire was to go to Paris, and
when the war came he had his wish; but found sterner work to do than to
dress and dance and languish at the feet of ladies. I hope it made a man
of him, and fancy it did; for the French fight well and suffer bravely
for the country they love in their melodramatic fashion.

As the day approached for the advent of the bridegroom, great excitement
prevailed in the quiet household. Madame C. and her handmaid, dear old
Marie, cackled and bustled like a pair of important hens. Madame F., the
widow, lived at the milliner's, so to speak, and had several dress
rehearsals for her own satisfaction. Gaston mounted guard over his
sister, lest some enamoured man should rend her from them ere her Jules
could secure the prize. And Pelagie placidly ate and slept, kept her
hair in crimping-pins from morning till night, wore out her old clothes,
and whiled away the time munching _bonbons_ and displaying her shawl.

'Mercy on us! I should feel like a lamb being fattened for the sacrifice
if I were in her place,' cried one of the freeborn American
citizenesses, with an air of unmitigated scorn for French ways of
conducting this interesting ceremony.

'I should feel like a galley-slave,' said the other. 'For she can't go
anywhere without Gaston or Mamma at her elbow. Only yesterday she went
into a shop alone, while Gaston waited at the door. And when she told it
at home as a great exploit all the ladies shrieked with horror at the
idea, and Mamma said, wringing her hands: "_Mon Dieu!_ but they will
think thou art a married woman, for it is inconceivable that any girl
should do so bold a thing." And Pelagie wept, and implored them not to
tell Jules, lest he should discard her.'

Here the Americans all groaned over the pathetic absurdity of the whole
affair, and wondered with unrighteous glee what the decorous ladies
below would say to some of their pranks at home. But, fearing that M. le
President might feel it his duty to eject them from the town as
dangerous persons, they shrouded their past sins in the most discreet
silence, and assumed their primmest demeanour in public.

'He has come! Look quick, girls!' cried Lavinia, as a carriage stopped
at the door, and a r