The Camp Fire Girls in Glorious France

by Margaret Vandercook

  CHAPTER XV An Intimate Conversation

  "Do you like it here, Marguerite? Are you never lonely for the littleroom in the old house in Paris?"

  Marguerite Arnot was seated before a window of a sunny room on the thirdfloor of Miss Patricia's house in Versailles. The walls were papered witha bright paper, the furniture covered in French chintz and on the tablenearby were a heap of soft materials of many colors.

  Marguerite was sewing on a piece of blue chiffon. She lifted her eyesfrom her work to smile on the younger girl beside her who was alsooccupied in the same fashion.

  "Lonely, Julie, for the tiny quarters and the darkness and thedilapidated old house? No, cherie, I am never lonely for unlovely things.But sometimes I do feel lonely for you and for Paris, perhaps because Ido not altogether belong here amid so many girls who are strangers to meand amid a greater luxury than I have ever known."

  With a little sigh half of regret and half of physical content, the girldropped her sewing into her lap for a moment, to gaze admiringly aboutthe charming room.

  "I am beginning to enjoy the wealth and beauty and ease too much, Julie.I do not like even to confess to you how I shall regret having to returnto the old struggle when the home here is closed and Miss Lord goes backto the devastated French country to continue the reclamation work there.That is what she looks forward to doing. This house was rented only for aseason as a holiday place for herself and her friends. When summerarrives and the Peace Conference is probably over, I shall have to goback to the old life in Paris. Still, Julie, you need not look sounhappy! The life we lead is no more difficult for me than for you andindeed as I am older, it should be less so!"

  Marguerite Arnot's present companion was the young French girl, JulieDupont, to whom the Camp Fire girls had been introduced some time beforewhen Julie was living with a group of friends in a tiny apartment inParis. During the past few days the young girl had been sharingMarguerite's room in Miss Lord's home in Versailles.

  Upon learning that Julie, who had always been her devoted friend andadmirer, had lost her position and was also ill, Marguerite had decidedthat she must return to Paris to care for her. Her other friends were toomuch occupied and Marguerite also understood they could scarcely affordfor Julie to continue as a member of their household unless she were ableto pay her share of the expenses.

  Having saved a little money of her own from the generous sum MissPatricia paid for her work, Marguerite felt able to bear theresponsibility. There was no bond between her and Julie save one ofaffection, due chiefly to the younger girl's ardent attachment,nevertheless Marguerite acknowledged its claim.

  Miss Patricia, when Marguerite attempted to explain the situation, atfirst had declined positively to release her from her obligation.Afterwards Miss Patricia invited Julie to spend a few days with herfriend while she recovered her strength.

  Yet at present it appeared that the brief visit might lengthenindefinitely, Miss Patricia having since decided that Marguerite had toomuch sewing to accomplish alone and that Julie must remain to assist her.

  It developed later that the young French girl's illness had not beenserious. Indeed Marguerite had suspected that it might have been partlydue to design. So fervently had Julie desired to see her again, that theillness had doubtless been exaggerated in order to accomplish herpurpose. Before this occasion Marguerite had reason to believe Julie'smethods in achieving her purposes were not always perfectly scrupulous.

  Now the young girl shook her head with rather an odd expression on herface. It was a clever face and might have been a beautiful one save thatit was too thin and sallow and almost too clever. It was perhaps thecleverness of a child who has had to depend too much upon her ownresources with no family and few friends to feel an interest in her.

  "I don't see, Marguerite, why you speak of returning to Paris unless youlike! The life is harder for you than for me for a number of reasonswhich we both understand without having to discuss them. Besides, I shallnot go back unless you do. I shall always find some reason why we shouldcontinue to live together."

  If Marguerite Arnot was not especially pleased by this intimation, shemerely smiled:

  "I wonder if you would mind informing me, Julie, how I shall manage notto return to my former work in Paris? I certainly hope to be sufficientlyfortunate to find persons there who will allow me to sew for them. Youand I know no other trade and I don't think either of us is about toinherit a fortune."

  With a quickness and dexterity, suggesting a kitten leaping at a ball,Julie, threading a fresh needle, plunged it into her sewing.

  "No, you have not yet inherited a fortune, but you have had an old woman,said to be fabulously wealthy, take an immense fancy to you. I think,Marguerite, that unless Miss Lord does something really worth while foryou, you will have managed very badly. She may make you her heiress."

  The older girl frowned.

  "Don't talk childish nonsense, Julie, as if you had only read fairystories. Besides, you make us both appear very ungrateful. You mustrealize that Miss Lord cares more for Mrs. Burton than any one in theworld. Moreover, there were seven other girls living in her home beforeher eyes ever rested upon me. Perhaps one of them would be equallywilling to inherit her fortune. Vera Lagerloff is poor and Miss Patriciais particularly fond of her. Vera has told me she expects to remain withMiss Lord in France and return with her to the reclamation work. BesidesI really do not think that Miss Patricia displays the slightest sign ofsurrendering her fortune to any one just at present. Let's talk ofsomething else."

  Holding up to the light the piece of blue chiffon upon which she wassewing, Marguerite studied it for a moment her attention absorbed by whatshe was doing.

  Julie stopped her work to look at her.

  The afternoon sun shone on the older girl's heavy dark hair, revealingthe pure oval of her face, her clear, white skin, the delicate pointedchin and large grey eyes.

  Julie then fell to sewing again more rapidly than before.

  "Oh well, I don't see why I am not allowed to say what I wish! There isno harm. You are always too afraid of realities, that is why I do notthink, Marguerite, that you are suited to making your own way. But ofcourse, any one who is as pretty as you are, is sure to marry fairlysoon, so I suppose I need not trouble about your future!"

  This time Marguerite Arnot, in spite of her annoyance, laughed.

  "See here, Julie, what a ridiculous child you are. Some of the time youare so wise that one forgets you are only fourteen. Yet you are oldenough to understand that I can never marry. In the first place even inordinary times no French girl marries without her dot and I have nothing.Besides, the war has destroyed nearly a million and a half of our men. IfI possessed a dowry perhaps I might some day marry a wounded soldier inorder to care for him; I suppose a good many French girls will do this. Ido not think I altogether envy them."

  "There are other men to marry beside Frenchmen. I heard the Camp Firegirls talking the other night and they declared no American ever expectshis wife to have a dowry unless she happens to be extremely rich in herown right. Even when the parents are wealthy, they rarely give theirdaughters anything until their death. I have been thinking recently thatperhaps a good many of our French girls may marry American soldiers.Indeed I know a few of them who expect to do this. I rather think Ishould like to marry an American!"

  "Well, suppose you do not discuss the subject for another four or fiveyears, Julie," the other girl answered, perhaps a little primly. "So faras I am concerned I wish you would not talk of it at all."

  "Oh, very well, Marguerite Arnot, but it is because you care too much andnot too little," Julie responded. "What shall we talk about? I can't sewwithout talking. Why not tell me all you have been able to find out aboutthe Camp Fire girls? I don't presume it is very much, but at least itwill be enough for me to start on and I can find out the rest later."

  Marguerite sighed, shaking her head in a discouraged fashion.

  "Juli
e, I wish you had known my mother for a few years of your life! Shewould have been able to teach you what I do not seem to succeed inaccomplishing. Yet there are some things one cannot teach a human being,one ought to know them instinctively. And these are the things you sooften do not know, Julie, that I can't tell where to begin with you. Butthen you have never had any kind of training. Still I shall of course behappy to tell you what I know of the Camp Fire girls since it is onlywhat they have wished me to know."

  Julie shrugged her thin little French shoulders.

  "Don't worry about me, Marguerite! If I never knew my own mother, I had aclever enough father until the war took him from me. So far as the CampFire girls are concerned I am not wishing to discover their secrets. Youare not fair to me!"

  "Then I am very sorry," the other girl replied. "With whom shall I begin?Bettina Graham's father is a United States Senator living in the city ofWashington. Her mother is very beautiful and an old friend of Mrs.Burton's. Bettina is not wealthy as Americans think of money, but she iswealthy of course as compared with us. Peggy Webster is Mrs. Burton'sniece, the daughter of her twin sister, and Peggy is engaged to marry theyoung American lieutenant, whom she knew long ago, when the Camp Firegirls spent a summer near the Arizona desert. I only know what Peggy toldme of this herself. Her home is in New Hampshire, where her father owns alarge farm. They are not wealthy, Peggy insists, although the young manwhom she is to marry has a great deal of money in his family. Sally andAlice Ashton are sisters, unlike as they seem to be, and their father isa physician in Boston. Yvonne Fleury, you know, is a French girl and herparents are dead. She has only her brother left since the war, whichkilled her mother and younger brother. But you have heard all thisbefore. She and Lieutenant Fleury own a chateau near the Marne. MaryGilchrist is an only child and her father has an immense ranch somewherein the west. Vera Lagerloff's people are poor farmers. There, have I leftout any one or told more than I should? I scarcely know, Julie. I amtired so you will have to let me be quiet for a little while. I know youhave not the faintest understanding of half I have told you. How muchUnited States geography did you ever study at school? I am ashamed of themistakes I have been making recently."

  Not interested in her own ignorance but in her own wisdom, Julie for themoment made no response.

  A few moments later, following a knock at the door, a trim French maidentered to say that Miss Patricia desired the two girls to stop theirsewing and to go for a walk.

  Really it was a puzzle to the various members of her household, thefashion in which Miss Patricia, although apparently occupied with avariety of other concerns, was at the same time able to keep a carefulwatch upon the welfare of every member of her household. If now and thenshe was something of a tyrant, at least she had the happiness of hersubjects nearer her heart than was her own happiness.

  Downstairs, Julie and Marguerite discovered Bettina Graham and David Halewaiting for them. Two or three of the other girls, with Dan Webster andLieutenant Fleury, had gone on ahead.

  "We are going to the park and have our walk there. I thought perhaps youwould like to go with us," Bettina Graham explained.

  She turned to her companion.

  "You see, Mr. Hale, since my escapade, the other girls in our householdhave had to suffer for my sins. We are no longer allowed to go anydistance from home by ourselves."

  A quarter of an hour later, the little party reached one of the entrancesto the great park.

  It was now early springtime, the horse chestnut trees were beginning toshow green spars on their gray branches, a few of the early shrubs wereabout ready to blossom.

  The President of the United States had again returned to France and oncemore the peace sessions were holding daily meetings in Paris.

  The great Palace of Versailles was still closed. Indoors, however, aspring cleaning was undoubtedly taking place, since the world was atpresent hopeful that the peace terms would soon be announced and theGerman envoys invited to France for the signing of the treaty.

  At this hour of the afternoon the park was open to the public and anumber of persons of varied nationalities were walking about, probablyrepresentatives to the Conference and their friends who had come out toVersailles because of the beauty of the spring afternoon.

  As the three girls and David Hale entered the park near the Baths ofApollo, Bettina Graham slipped her arm through Julie's, dropping a littlebehind in order that Marguerite and David should be able to walktogether.

  She had been talking to David Hale during their ride on the car and for afew moments while they were awaiting the other girls.

  It had struck her that he had watched Marguerite Arnot with a good dealof interest and must therefore wish to be with her.

  "Are you so familiar with the park here at Versailles that you have growntired of it, Julie?" Bettina Graham asked. "I sometimes wonder if itinterests French people as much as it does Americans. You have suchwonderful parks in Paris as well! But come, let us stop here a moment andlook at the view."

  A little distrustfully the young French girl regarded Bettina, having notthe least understanding or appreciation of the American girl's character,her generosity and straightforwardness.

  Julie wished Marguerite to have the opportunity to talk with David Halealone, since it fostered a certain idea she had been cherishing of late.Yet she did not wish altogether to lose sight of them.

  "I have never been to Versailles until my visit to Miss Lord and I havenever seen the park until this afternoon," Julie answered a littlesullenly.

  It was impossible that the two girls should immediately understand eachother, separated as they were by race, education and opportunities. Yetas Bettina was the older, the fault was perhaps hers.

  Julie appeared to Bettina more of a child than she actually was, only toounchildlike in certain details, because of having had to depend too muchupon herself. The younger girl's personality was really not pleasant toBettina and she had an odd distrust of her. But this she would not haveconfessed at this period of their acquaintance even to herself.

  She especially hoped to be able to make friends with Julie, feeling thatshe would particularly like to interest her in the Camp Fire.

  "Well, you could scarcely see the park at a more interesting time thanthis afternoon!" Bettina replied, feeling a little ashamed of the factthat it had not occurred to her that Julie had probably been too poor allher life even for this short excursion from Paris to Versailles.

  The two girls were now at the end of the Royal Walk. Beyond them, betweenlong avenues of budding trees, they were able to behold the great Palace,pale yellow in the afternoon sunlight. Nearby was a statue of the Car ofApollo, the Sun God, rising from an artificial lake, his car drawn byfour bronze horses.

  At this moment, Marguerite Arnot and David Hale were signaling to them.Julie and Bettina walked on toward the others.

  This afternoon all the fountains in the park at Versailles were playing.

  "Don't you think, Mr. Hale, this is just as interesting a scene as any inthe eighteenth century when all the fashionable world of Paris used tocome out here? Still I should like to have seen the costumes of thosedays, the women in their hoop skirts and later in the fashions of theEmpire, the men with their satin coats and knee breeches."

  The four of them were standing still at the moment Bettina made herlittle speech. She then turned to Marguerite Arnot.

  "You see, Miss Arnot, Mr. Hale and I have both been reading a history ofFrance in the eighteenth century which he was kind enough to lend me.That is why I am talking in this learned fashion. Perhaps you would liketo read it later?"

  Marguerite nodded, as David answered:

  "Thought we had agreed, Miss Graham, that Versailles is more interestingat present than at any time in its history.

  "I have been trying to recall a few lines of the verse you composed theother day: 'Now one knows of the foolishness of kings, one learns a newrespect for common things.' Still one can but wonder if a new anddemocratic world will ever create
any place as magnificent as this greatpark? Remember, you have promised me, if I can obtain the necessarypermission, that you will go with me some afternoon to the Queen'sgarden, where we had so unexpected an introduction to each other. Youshould have chosen a warmer night for your adventure. How lovely it mustbe when the flowers and shrubs are in bloom!"

  Bettina flushed and laughed.

  "Don't talk of my adventure; I shall always be ashamed of my curiosityand my stupidity, also of being thought to be either an anarchist or aspy. Perhaps I shall not be able to keep my promise. Who knows whether Ishall ever be allowed inside the little garden again!"

  This afternoon Bettina was wearing a bright blue cloth coat with a collarof moleskin and a newly purchased French hat, which had the air of havingbeen designed especially for her. Her eyes were clear and brilliant withinterest in her companions and their extraordinary surroundings; hercolor was deeper than usual, her fair hair, suggesting the familiarphrase, encircled her small head like a crown.

  Marguerite Arnot smiled, although not unconscious of the contrast betweenher own simple black costume and Bettina's, and of the deeper contrast intheir two lives.

  "In spite of Miss Graham's objection to kings, I believe her family andfriends oftentimes call her 'Princess'."

  This time Bettina really was embarrassed.

  "Please don't hold me responsible. I only owe that title to the fact thatmy father used to tease and flatter me by allowing me to play I was thelittle princess of the fairy stories we used to read together. No one hasless right to the title!"

  Weary of Bettina's appearing the center of the attention, Julie now madean effort to draw her away.

  "You promised to show me more of the gardens, Miss Graham. Please let uswalk on toward the Fountain Gardens. Marguerite and Mr. Hale will followor else we can come back here for them," she pleaded.

  During the remainder of the afternoon Julie managed to remain always withBettina, keeping her separated from any intimate conversation with DavidHale.