"It is in some old corner; it has a
vast, mysterious, feudal air, I fancy. You will hold a
little court in it, and sometimes let a poor American
artist from Pond City in to hang on the edge of the crowd
and stare at the haute noblesse."
"Don't be absurd, Jean," said Miss Vance.
"I am quite serious. I think an American girl like Lucy,
with her beauty and her money, will be welcomed by these
German nobles as a white swan among ducks. She ought to
take her place and hold it." Jean's black eyes snapped
and the blood flamed up her cheeks. "If I were she I'd
make my money tell! I'd buy poor King Ludwig's residence
at Binderhof, with the cascades and jewelled peacocks and
fairy grottos, for my country seat. The Bavarian
nobility are a beggarly lot. If they knew that Lucy and
her millions were coming to town in this cab, they'd blow
their trumpets for joy. `Wave, Munich, all thy
banners wave!'" Lucy's impatient shrug silenced
her, but she was preoccupied and excited throughout the
day. Miss Vance watched her curiously. Could it be that
she had heard of the prince's plan of marrying her to his
cousin, and that she was building these air castles for
herself?
A day or two sufficed to make Miss Vance's cheery
apartments the rendezvous of troops of Americans of all
kinds: from the rich lounger, bored by the sight of
pictures, which he did not understand, and courts which
he could not enter, to the half-starved, eager-eyed art
students, who smoked, and drank beer, and chattered in
gutturals, hoping to pass for Germans.
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