for an age, without a word of warning, there's no more news of him—no news of any kind. For six months, you know, we believed him dead."
"Dead? Oh, how unhappy you must have been!" said Sonia.
"Oh, don't speak of it! For six months I daren't put on a light frock," said Germaine, turning to her.
"A lot she must have cared for him," whispered Jeanne to Marie.
"Fortunately, one fine day, the letters began again. Three months ago a telegram informed us that he was coming back; and at last the Duke returned," said Germaine, with a theatrical air.
"The Duke returned," cried Jeanne, mimicking her.
"Never mind. Fancy waiting nearly seven years for one's fiancė. That was constancy," said Sonia.
"Oh, you're a sentimentalist, Mlle. Kritchnoff," said Jeanne, in a tone of mockery. "It was the influence of the castle."
"What do you mean?" said Germaine.
"Oh, to own the castle of Charmerace and call oneself Mlle. Gournay-Martin—it's not worth doing. One must become a duchess," said Jeanne.
