CHAPTER XIX.
WASTED DYE.
Judy emerged from behind the curtains which divided the family livingroom from the little shop, the platter of tongue held high. In her capand apron, she reminded one of a Howard Pyle illustration for someholiday number of a magazine.
"Gee, what a beaut!" exclaimed the taller of the two strangers.
The one with the serge suit dropped it and made a rush for the girl. Hehad her in his arms, platter of tongue and all, before Mere Tricot couldrescue it. But that dame managed to extricate the big dish before anygreater damage was done than disarranging the effect of a wreath ofautumn leaves.
Hearts that were broken may be mended but platters of smoked tonguemust not be dropped on the floor and smashed.
"Oh, Judy gal, Judy gal! Tell me all about it!"
"Kent! Kent! I thought you were drowned and have gone into mourning foryou," sobbed Judy.
As for Jim Castleman, in the most execrable and impossible French, hewas explaining to good Mother Tricot how it all happened, and FatherTricot hastened to the shop from his carving to find out what it was allabout, and then such a handshaking and hugging as ensued was never seen!
"We were all about to sit down to _dejeuner a la fourchette_," said theever hospitable old man, "and if the young gentlemen would come with us,we should be much honoured."
The grenadier was equally pleased to have them and, indeed, JimCastleman was so hungry by that time that he would have eaten coldspinach with his fingers.
How that old couple plied the young Americans with their delightfulfood and how they listened to their tale of shipwreck and rescue! WhenKent told of their fooling the Prussians with Tutno, the childishlanguage they had known in their youth, the Tricots laughed with suchglee that a gendarme put his head in the door to see what it was allabout. When Jim Castleman in a speech that sounded more like Tutno thanParisian French, informed his hosts that he was there to join the armyof Joffre, old Mere Tricot helped him to two more tarts, although he hadalready eaten enough of them to furnish dessert for any ordinary Frenchfamily of four.
"And now, Madame," said Kent to his hostess, "I want you to do anotherthing for me. You have done so many things already that maybe I shouldnot ask you."
"What is it, mon brave?" and the old woman smiled very kindly on theyoung American, whom she had not half an hour before called a Prussianand accused of stealing Judy's serge suit.
"I am to be married very soon and I want you to help me out in it."
"Married!" Judy gasped.
"Yes, Miss Judy Kean, I am to be married and so are you. What's more, itis to be just as soon as the French law will tie the knot."
"Well, of all----"
"Yes, of all the slippery parties, I know you are the slipperiest and Ihave no idea of letting you get away. Am I right, Jim?"
Jim was too busy with a tart to be coherent. He nodded his head,however, and when Kent put the same question to Mere Tricot in French,she upheld him.
"It would be much more convenable if you were married. It is very easyto get married in war time. The authorities are not near so difficult toapproach on the subject. I will see what can be done by the magistratewho married Jean and Marie, and no doubt if you interview your AmericanAmbassador, much can be attended to in a short time."
"Kent Brown, if you think----" sputtered Judy.
"I don't think a thing, I just know," said Kent very calmly. "Put onyour hat, honey, and let's take a little walk."
"Well, all right--but----" Was this the Judy Kean who prided herself onso well knowing her own mind, calmly consenting to be married againsther will? Was it against her will? She suddenly remembered thecommunings she had had with herself, in which she had cried out to Kent:"Why, why, did you not make me go with you?"
"I shall have to rip the lining out of my hat before I can go out," shesaid quite meekly.
"The lining out of your hat?" questioned Kent.
"Yes, you see I went into mourning when--when----" and Judy, now that itwas all over, still could not voice the terrible thing she thought hadhappened to Kent.
"Please don't rip it out until I see you in it. Not many men live to seehow their widows look mourning for them."
"Widows, indeed! Kent Brown, you presume too much!" exclaimed Judy, butshe could not help laughing. The hat was very becoming and she was notloathe to wear it, just once.
First Mere Tricot must be assisted with the dishes, however; but thenJudy got ready to go walking with Kent.
Pere Tricot undertook to be guide to Jim Castleman, offering to lead himto the proper place to enlist.
"I'll only look into it to-day," said Jim, grasping Kent's hand. "Ishan't join for keeps until I have officiated as best man."
Judy, who had gone into Marie's tiny bedroom to get into her rescuedserge suit, overheard this remark and blushed to the roots of her fluffyhair. As she put on her white lined hat, she peeped again into themirror: "Judy Kean, you are much too rosy for a widow," she admonishedher image.
Mere Tricot saw them off, her good man and Jim to the recruitingstation, and Kent and Judy to the Luxembourg Gardens, a spot hallowed bylovers.
"Well, well!" she said to herself. "The good God has brought the poorlamb her lover from the grave. I am glad, very glad,--but it iscertainly a pity to waste all that good dye the butcher's wife saved forus. It is not good when kept too long, either. I won't throw it out yeta while, though,--some one will be wanting it, perhaps."