eel a vague remorse. "I wonder if it is
right to do this! . . . Is it not wrong to live like this when so many
sorrows are falling on the world?" Julio hushed her scruples with:

"But if we are going to marry as soon as possible! . . . If we are
already the same as husband and wife!"

She replied with a gesture of strangeness and dismay. To marry! . . .
Ten days ago she had had no other wish. Now the possibility of marriage
was recurring less and less in her thoughts. Why think about such remote
and uncertain events? More immediate things were occupying her mind.

The farewell to her brother in the station was a scene which had fixed
itself ineradicably in her memory. Upon going to the studio she had
planned not to speak about it, foreseeing that she might annoy her lover
with this account; but alas, she had only to vow not to mention a thing,
to feel an irresistible impulse to talk about it.

She had never suspected that she could love her brother so dearly. Her
former affection for him had been mingled with a silent sentiment of
jealousy because her mother had preferred the older child. Besides,
he was the one who had introduced Laurier to his home; the two held
diplomas as industrial engineers and had been close friends from their
school days. . . . But upon seeing the boy ready to depart, Marguerite
suddenly discovered that this brother, who had always been of
secondary interest to her, was now occupying a pre-eminent place in her
affections.

"He was so handsome, so interesting in his lieutenant's uniform! . . .
He looked like another person. I will admit to you that I was very proud
to walk beside him, leaning on his arm. People thought that we were
married. Seeing me weep, some poor women tried to console me saying,
'Courage, Madame. . . . Your man will come back.' He just laughed at
hearing these mistakes. The only thing that was really saddening him was
thinking about our mother."

They had separated at the door of the station. The sentries would not
let her go any further, so she had handed over his sword that she had
wished to carry till the last moment.

"It is lovely to be a man!" she exclaimed enthusiastically. "I would
love to wear a uniform, to go to war, to be of some real use!"

She tried not to say more about it, as though she suddenly realized
the inopportuneness of her last words. Perhaps she noticed the scowl on
Julio's face.

She was, however, so wrought up by the memory of that farewell