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Updated: June 17, 2025
He knew that his father and mother with difficulty kept pace with his home expenses and that a Continental tour was impossible for him. Mr. Goulden looked a little thoughtful, as if a new element had entered into the problem. "Oh, come," laughed Zell. "Let us all be good, and go on a pilgrimage together to Paris I mean Jerusalem." "I will worship devoutly with you at either shrine," said Mr.
Goulden said anything, I could see in her eyes that she thought he was right. One evening he said, "The Duke de Berry is coming here." We were greatly astonished. "What is he going to do here, Mr. Goulden?" asked Catherine. "He is coming to review the regiment," he answered, "I have a great curiosity to see him. The papers say that he looks like Bonaparte, but that he has a great deal more mind.
And when I think of Louis XVIII., I hear the bells ring and I imagine Father Brainstein and his two big boys hanging to the ropes, and I hear Father Goulden laugh and say: "That, Joseph, is for Saint Magloire or Saint Polycarp." I cannot think of those days in any other way.
From such clever men the jests and compliments were rather better than the average, and repartee from the ruby lips that smiled upon them could not seem other than brilliant. Edith soon added to the sources of enjoyment by ordering cake and wine, for though not the eldest she seemed naturally to take the lead. Mr. Goulden drank sparingly. He meant that not a film should come across his judgment.
Ten minutes after, the Rabbi Rose came in to have a glass put in his watch. "Who is dead?" asked Monsieur Goulden. "Poor old Standard-bearer." "What! Father Féral?" "Yes, near an hour ago.
His wife looked majestic as she swept through the parlors on the arm of one of his most distinguished fellow-citizens. Through the library door he could see Mr. Goulden leaning toward Laura and saying something that made even her pale face quite peony-like. Edith, exquisite as a moss- rose, was about to lead off in the German in the large front parlor.
"Is Catherine asleep? and Aunt Grédel and Father Goulden and all the town? The national guard from Nancy has taken our place." I saw the sentinels of the two magazines and the guard at the two gates; in short, thoughts without number came and went, when I heard a horse galloping in the distance, but I could see nothing.
I had just put on my swallow-tailed coat and my beaver hat, to go out, when Aunt Grédel and Catharine entered, saying: "Good-morning, Monsieur Goulden. We have come for the conscription." Then I saw how Catharine had been crying. Her eyes were red, and she threw her arms around my neck, while her mother turned to me. Monsieur Goulden said: "It will soon be the turn of the young men of the town."
No one would have believed that such a face could weep; that alone was sufficient to upset you and make you tremble. He said not a word; his eyes were closed and the tears ran down his nose and his long mustaches. I was looking on with all my eyes, as you can imagine, when Father Goulden got down from his chair and pulled me by the arm, saying: "Joseph, let us go, it is time."
She laughed, and as Father Goulden and I listened to hear her plan, she continued: "Just now while I was at the town-hall, Sergeant Harmantier announced that we were to have a grand mass for the repose of the souls of Louis XVI., Pichegru, Moreau, and another one." "Yes," interrupted Father Goulden, "for George Cadoudal, I read it last evening in the gazette."
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