"Oh, he's all right in that way, little as he cares about society,"
said Germaine. "Well, by a miracle my father got cured of his
rheumatism here. Jacques fell in love with me; papa made up his mind
to buy the chateau; and I demanded the hand of Jacques in marriage."

"You did? But you were only sixteen then," said Marie, with some
surprise.

"Yes; but even at sixteen a girl ought to know that a duke is a
duke. I did," said Germaine. "Then since Jacques was setting out for
the South Pole, and papa considered me much too young to get
married, I promised Jacques to wait for his return."

"Why, it was everything that's romantic!" cried Marie.

"Romantic? Oh, yes," said Germaine; and she pouted. "But between
ourselves, if I'd known that he was going to stay all that time at
the South Pole--"

"That's true," broke in Marie. "To go away for three years and stay
away seven--at the end of the world."

"All Germaine's beautiful youth," said Jeanne, with her malicious
smile.

"Thanks!" said Germaine tartly.

"Well, you ARE twenty-three. It's the flower of one's age," said
Jeanne.