“Him I recognize,” said Yvonne. “I saw him two or three times in Paris. That is M. Caracal.”
But grand’mère no longer listened. She had returned to her knitting. The place no longer interested her; too many people were passing there. All this movement annoyed her. Why do not people stay at home? Meanwhile Caracal’s manœuvers were amusing Yvonne.
“Poor M. Caracal,” she thought; “there he is, politely bowing to every one. Really, he seems persuaded that they’ve all come out to welcome him! If he knew that it was all for horses and an auto, his vanity as a writer would be wounded.”
Yvonne sympathized with him, but she could not help being amused at the sight of Caracal jumping about like a puppet, giving orders about his trunks, and at last, when the crowd had seen enough of him, entering the Lion d’Or behind the Rowrers’ horses.
CHAPTER II
IN CAMP
Grand’mère de Grojean was talking about camping out, with many an “est-ce possible!” and “Grand Dieu!” and Mademoiselle Yvonne was looking at the dust in the distance, while Miss Rowrer and grandma were already inspecting their camping-ground.
“How well off we shall be here, Ethel!” grandma said. “What a capital idea! We shall breathe freely and, in spite of being in an old country, we shall have new experiences. I like new things!”
It was in full July. For several weeks Miss Rowrer had had the intention of quitting Paris. First of all, it was hot, and there was nothing to see, now that the Grand Prix race had been run. Besides, the national holiday of the Fourteenth of July was drawing near, and then the sovereign people dance and eat and drink in the street, which is really too common!
“Let us hurry away!” Miss Rowrer said. “Let us not take back to America a bad opinion of France. We must not judge it by Paris. Let us go and see France at home—away from dust and dances and noise, away from punch d’indignation. The countess has invited us to pass the summer in her château; with her leave, we’ll pass it in her park. Let me arrange it.”
Miss Rowrer had chosen a hill from which you could see the whole country-side. Then she sent for a house-furnisher, told him her plans, saying: “I want this—and this—and this.” The tradesman remonstrated: “But, mademoiselle, that is never done!” She finished by making him understand, all the same, by dint of repeating, “I wish this! and this! and this!” At last, without any one knowing it except M. Riçois, who paid the bills, the camp was set up.