Tea was an unusual success for France. It was real tea, but then there
was reason for that, for Julie had insisted on going into the big
kitchen, to madame's amusement and monsieur's open admiration, and making
it herself. But the chocolate cakes, the white bread and proper butter,
and the cream, were a miracle. Peter wondered if you could get such
things in England now, and Julie gaily told him that the French made laws
only to break them, with several instances thereof. She declared that if
a food-ration officer existed in Caudebec he must be in love with the
landlady's daughter and that she only wished she could get to know such
an official in Havre. The daughter in question waited on them, and Julie
and she chummed up immensely. Finally she was despatched to produce a
collection of Army badges and buttons--scalps Julie called them. When
they came they turned them over. All ranks were represented, or nearly
so, and most regiments that either could remember. There were Canadian,
Australian, and South African badges, and at last Julie declared that
only one was wanting.
"What will you give for this officer's badge?" she demanded, seizing hold
of one of Peter's Maltese crosses.
The girl looked at it curiously. "What is it?" she said.
"It's the badge of the Sacred Legion," said Julie gravely. "You know
Malta? Well, that's part of the British Empire, of course, and the
English used to have a regiment there to defend it from the Turks. It was
a great honour to join, and so it was called the Sacred Legion. This
officer is a Captain in it."
"Shut up Julie," said Peter, _sotto voce_.
But nothing would stop her. "Come now," she said. "What will you give?
You'll give her one for a kiss, won't you, Solomon?"
The girl laughed and blushed "Not before mademoiselle," she said, looking
at Peter.
"Oh, I'm off," cried Julie, "I'll spare you one, but only one, remember."
and she deliberately got up and left them.
Mademoiselle was "tres jolie," said the girl, collecting her badges.
Peter detached a cross and gave it her, and she demurely put up her
mouth. He kissed her lightly, and walked leisurely out to settle the bill
and call the car. He had entirely forgotten his depression, and the world
seemed good to him. He hummed a little song by the water's edge as he
waited, and thought over the day. He could never remember having had such
a one in his life. Then he recollected that one badge was gone, and he
abstracted the other. Without his badges he would not be known as a
chaplain.
When Julie appeared, she made no remark, as he had half-expected. They
got in, and started off back in the cooling evening. Near Tancarville
they stopped the car to have the hood put up, and strolled up into the
grounds of the old castle while they waited.
"Extraordinary it must have been to have lived in a place like this,"
said Peter.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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