They were dressed very simply, Julie in white and Madame
Lannes in plain gray. Their good-morning to John was quiet, but he saw
that it came from the heart. They recognized in him the faithful comrade
in danger, of the son and brother, and he saw once more that French
family affection was very powerful.
It was early, far earlier than the ordinary time for the European
breakfast, and he knew that it had been served so, because he and Lannes
were to depart. He sat facing a window, and he saw the dawn come over
Paris in a vast silver haze that soon turned to a cloud of gold. He
again stole glances at Julie Lannes. In all her beautiful fairness of
hair and complexion she was like one of the blonde American girls of his
own country.
When breakfast was over and the two young men rose to go John said the
first farewell. He still did not know the French custom, but, bending
over suddenly, he kissed the still smooth and handsome hand of Madame
Lannes. As she flushed and looked pleased, he judged that he had made no
mistake. Then he touched lightly the hand of the young girl, and said:
"Mademoiselle Julie, I hope to return soon to this house with your
brother."
"May it be so," she said, in a voice that trembled, "and may you come
back to a Paris still French!"
John bowed to them both and with tact and delicacy withdrew from the
room. He felt that there should be no witness of Philip's farewell to
his mother and sister, before going on a journey from which the chances
were that he would never return.
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