e senora would appear as majestic
and dazzling as a basilica of Byzantium--ears and neck decorated
with great pearls, her bosom a constellation of brilliants, her hands
radiating points of light of all colors of the rainbow.

"Too much, mama," Chichi would protest. "They will take you for a
pawnbroker's lady!" But the Creole, satisfied with her splendor, the
crowning glory of a humble life, attributed her daughter's faultfinding
to envy. Chichi was only a girl now, but later on she would thank her
for having collected all these gems for her.

Already the home was unable to accommodate so many purchases. In
the cellars were piled up enough paintings, furniture, statues, and
draperies to equip several other dwellings. Don Marcelo began to
complain of the cramped space in an apartment costing twenty-eight
thousand francs a year--in reality large enough for a family four times
the size of his. He was beginning to deplore being obliged to renounce
some very tempting furniture bargains when a real estate agent smelled
out the foreigner and relieved him of his embarrassment. Why not buy a
castle? . . .

The entire family was delighted with the idea. An historic castle, the
most historic that could be found, would supplement their luxurious
establishment. Chichi paled with pride. Some of her friends had castles.
Others, of old colonial family, who were accustomed to look down upon
her for her country bringing up, would now cry with envy upon learning
of this acquisition which was almost a patent of nobility. The mother
smiled in the hope of months in the country which would recall the
simple and happy life of her youth. Julio was less enthusiastic. The
"old man" would expect him to spend much time away from Paris, but he
consoled himself by reflecting that the suburban place would provide
excuse for frequent automobile trips.

Desnoyers thought of the relatives in Berlin. Why should he not have
his castle like the others? . . . The bargains were alluring. Historic
mansions by the dozen were offered him. Their owners, exhausted by
the expense of maintaining them, were more than anxious to sell. So he
bought the castle of Villeblanche-sur-Marne, built in the time of
the religious wars--a mixture of palace and fortress with an Italian
Renaissance facade, gloomy towers with pointed hoods, and moats in which
swans were swimming.

He could now live with some tracts of land over which to exercise his
authority, struggling again