"I am sure of it. Only yesterday, at the Councillor Von Boscher's, before two officers, I mentioned the amount which I thought exact, and no one contradicted me. Officially, the one year's service man in the infantry should spend two thousand two hundred marks; in reality he spends four thousand. In the artillery he should spend two thousand seven hundred, and spends five thousand; in the cavalry the difference is still more; and when people maintain that you can finish the business with three thousand six hundred marks they are making fun of you. You must reckon seven or eight thousand marks. That is what I contend, and what I uphold."
"The regiment is admirably made up, father," interrupted Lucienne.
"A good deal of fortune in fact...."
"A good deal of nobility also, mixed with the sons of the rich manufacturers on the banks of the Rhine."
A quick smile of intelligence passed between Lucienne and her father. Jean was the only one who noticed it. Scarcely had the young girl had time to straighten her lips when she said:
"The volunteer places in the regiment are taken up so quickly that it is necessary to apply early in order to get one."
"I spoke to your colonel three months ago," said M. Oberlé. "You will be recommended to several of the chiefs."
Lucienne chimed in giddily:
"You will be able to bring some here; it would be amusing!"
Jean did not answer. Madame Oberlé blushed, as she often did when a word too much had been said before her. Lucienne was laughing again, when the grandfather stopped eating, and painfully, by jerks, each of which must have been painful, turned his sad, white head towards his grand-daughter. The eyes of the old Alsatian must have spoken a language very easy to translate, for the young girl ceased laughing, made a gesture of impatience as if she said, "Oh! I did not remember that you were here," and bent towards her father to offer him some Wolxheim wine, but really to escape the reproach she felt weighing on her.