"Oh, certainly," said the doctor, and with his hands behind his back, he pecked Berthe on the cheek which she turned towards him. Parker, equally nervous, did the same to pretty Lucie, and Aurelle gave them both a good hug in the French way.
"That's fine, mademoiselle?" said the little doctor.
"Yes," said Lucie with a sigh. "We wish it was always Christmas."
"Oh, but why?" said the doctor.
"Think how dull it will be for us after the War," replied Berthe, "when you are all gone! Before, one did not think of it—one saw no one—one worked, one knew no better, but now, without the boys, the village will be empty indeed. My sister and I will not stay here. We will go to Paris or London."
"Oh, but that's a pity," said the doctor.
"No, no," said Aurelle, "you will just get married. You will marry rich farmers, you will be very busy with your beasts and your chickens and you will forget all about us."
"It's easy to say 'get married,'" observed Berthe, "but it takes two for that. And if there are not enough young men for all the girls we shall probably get left in the lurch."
"Every man will have several wives," said Aurelle. "You will be much happier; with one husband between you two; you will only have half the housework to do."
"I do not think I should like it," said Lucie, who was very refined.