The high-toned friends of Hartrott emphasized
their love for France, but it was the pious love that a weak and
mischievous child inspires, needing protection. And they would accompany
their affability with all manner of inopportune memories of the wars in
which France had been conquered. Everything in Germany--a monument, a
railroad station, a simple dining-room device, instantly gave rise to
glorious comparisons. "In France, you do not have this," "Of course, you
never saw anything like this in America."
Don Marcelo came away fatigued by so much condescension, and his wife
and daughter refused to be convinced that the elegance of Berlin could
be superior to Paris. Chichi, with audacious sacrilege, scandalized her
cousins by declaring that she could not abide the corseted officers with
immovable monocle, who bowed to the women with such automatic rigidity,
blending their gallantries with an air of superiority.
Julio, guided by his cousins, was saturated in the virtuous atmosphere
of Berlin. With the oldest, "The Sage," he had nothing to do. He was a
poor creature devoted to his books who patronized all the family with
a protecting air. It was the others, the sub-lieutenants or military
students, who proudly showed him the rounds of German joy.
Julio was accordingly introduced to all the night
restaurants--imitations of those in Paris, but on a much larger scale.
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