LAbbe Constantin, vol 2 | Page 7

side of the house, a tall, dark young man. Miss
Percival talked to herself, and said:
"What shall I do? What shall I decide on? Must I marry him, that
handsome, tall fellow over there, who is watching me, for it is I that he
is looking at? He will come into our box directly this act is over, and
then I have only to say, 'I have decided; there is my hand; I will be your
wife,' and then all would be settled! I should be Princess! Princess
Romanelli! Princess Bettina! Bettina Romanelli! The names go well
together; they sound very pretty. Would it amuse me to be a princess?
Yes--and no! Among all the young men in Paris, who, during the last
year, have run after my money, this Prince Romanelli is the one who
pleases me best. One of these days I must make up my mind to marry. I
think he loves me. Yes, but the question is, do I love him? No, I don't
think I do, and I should so much like to love--so much, so much!"
At the precise moment when these reflections were passing through
Bettina's pretty head, Jean, alone in his study, seated before his desk
with a great book under the shade of his lamp, looked through, and
took notes of, the campaigns of Turenne. He had been directed to give a
course of instruction to the non-commissioned officers of the regiment,
and was prudently preparing his lesson for the next day.

But in the midst of his notes--Nordlingen, 1645; les Dunes, 1658;
Mulhausen and Turckheim, 1674-1675--he suddenly perceived (Jean
did not draw very badly) a sketch, a woman's portrait, which all at once
appeared under his pen. What was she doing there, in the middle of
Turenne's victories, this pretty little woman? And then who was
she--Mrs. Scott or Miss Percival? How could he tell? They resembled
each other so much; and, laboriously, Jean returned to the history of the
campaigns of Turenne.
And at the same moment, the Abbe Constantin, on his knees before his
little wooden bedstead, called down, with all the strength of his soul,
the blessings of Heaven on the two women through whose bounty he
had passed such a sweet and happy day. He prayed God to bless Mrs.
Scott in her children, and to give to Miss Percival a husband after her
own heart.

CHAPTER V
THE FAIR AMERICANS
Formerly Paris belonged to the Parisians, and that at no very remote
period-thirty or forty years ago. At that epoch the French were the
masters of Paris, as the English are the masters of London, the
Spaniards of Madrid, and the Russians of St. Petersburg. Those times
are no more. Other countries still have their frontiers; there are now
none to France. Paris has become an immense Babel, a universal and
international city. Foreigners do not only come to visit Paris; they come
there to live. At the present day we have in Paris a Russian colony, a
Spanish colony, a Levantine colony, an American colony. The
foreigners have already conquered from us the greater part of the
Champs-Elysees and the Boulevard Malesherbes; they advance, they
extend their outworks; we retreat, pressed back by the invaders; we are
obliged to expatriate ourselves. We have begun to found Parisian
colonies in the plains of Passy, in the plain of Monceau, in quarters
which formerly were not Paris at all, and which are not quite even now.
Among the foreign colonies, the richest, the most populous, the most

brilliant, is the American colony. There is a moment when an American
feels himself rich enough, a Frenchman never. The American then
stops, draws breath, and while still husbanding the capital, no longer
spares the income. He knows how to spend, the Frenchman knows only
how to save.
The Frenchman has only one real luxury--his revolutions. Prudently
and wisely he reserves himself for them, knowing well that they will
cost France dear, but that, at the same time, they will furnish the
opportunity for advantageous investments. The Frenchman says to
himself:
"Let us hoard! let us hoard! let us hoard! Some of these mornings there
will be a revolution, which will make the 5 per cents. fall 50 or 60
francs. I will buy then. Since revolutions are inevitable, let us try at
least to make them profitable."
They are always talking about the people who are ruined by revolutions,
but perhaps the number of those enriched by revolutions is still greater.
The Americans experience the attraction of Paris very strongly. There
is no town in the world where it is easier or more agreeable to spend a
great dial of money. For many reasons, both of race and origin, this
attraction exercised over Mrs. Scott and Miss Percival