“And where have you been all these years?”
Florentine asked.
“In Japan. As you know, my mother always wanted me to travel for at least ten years before I decided to settle down. I am sure that she wanted to keep me out of the clutches of the Parisian ladies. But now I have had enough of traveling, and I am going to settle down as a good solid citizen. I intend to live in Paris.”
“I hope we shall see each other from time to time.”
“Every day, unless you decide to throw me out!” Gordon smiled. “And now, my dearest lady, allow me to spoil little Gordon a little bit,” he looked Florentine straight in the eyes.
“But, please only a little bit. He is spoiled enough as it is, already.”
“He must have inherited that from his father,” the duke answered laughingly.
“And this?” Julia asked, ruffling her hands through the boy's golden burls.
“Those he has from his mother,” Florentine said.
They continued their stroll, meeting Gordon de Herisey at the appointed place. The little boy was even more enthusiastic about his new “uncle” than he had been about young Pedro.
“Ladies,” Gordon said, “I must take leave for the moment. A very good friend of mine is in town, and I promised to meet him at three o'clock. With your permission, I would be honored to present him to you.”
“How amusing to meet a good old friend after so many, many years,” Julia said. “So this gentleman was your famous Cherub?”
“Yes,” Florentine said, deep in thought.
“I wonder to whom he is going to introduce us.”
“Probably to some Oriental he met during his travels.”
That evening brought another surprise. It was not an Oriental to whom the sisters were introduced. It was no one else but Gaston, Count Saski.
He was no longer the dashing, young man of more than ten years ago. Time had weighed heavily upon his shoulders. His temples were gray, and deep lines furrowed his face. The deep-set, dark eyes betrayed that Gaston had suffered much.
For him, too, the times of love and laughter seemed to be over. During several stormy years, he had lost his wife, his children, and most of his fortune. Only Aunt Athena Saska had survived all misfortune, seemingly without bother. She still ate half a chicken daily, washing it down with a bottle of wine. Only her legs bothered her a little bit, and she had given up her habit of a daily hike through the forests.
Julia and Gaston looked at one another during dinner that night. Their emotions were mixed, but they were thinking along similar lines:
“He has suffered a lot…”
“She has cried often…” and… their hands found one another under the table; their fingers intertwined.
“Can you forgive me?” he asked softly.
“I have forgotten,” Julia answered simply.
Six months later, two travel coaches, loaded with luggage, were waiting in the courtyard of Charmettes castle.
Not far from them two gentlemen were giving orders to the servants. One of them was Gordon, Duke of Herisey, husband of Madame Vaudrez since earlier that morning. The other was Count Gaston Saski who had just made Donna Julia de Corriero his wife in a simple ceremony.
And upstairs, on the balcony, two women stood, hand in hand. It seemed as if they were saying farewell.
They were no longer the two young girls, eager to fly out on their own, from the home of their foster mother, Madame Briquart, the Colonel's wife. Time and experience had made them mature.
“Do you remember, Julia,” Florentine was the first to speak, “how once we were so eager to fly toward our happiness?”
“Yes,” Julia answered sadly, “but I will try to forget a lot.”
“We are embarking upon an entirely new chapter in our lives, dearest.”
“I know. But we have weathered the storms of our springtime, and we have survived the thunders of those storms. I am sure that we can handle the coming winds of fall. And I do not want to think, yet, of wintertime.”
The two women cried, embracing each other.
“Let's go,” Julia said, wiping away the tear. “Farewell to the past, good-bye tender youth, wild and passionate nights.” She smiled sadly. “We are like suns, past noontime, rushing toward the evening.”
“Evenings can be so beautiful,” Florentine said. “We have a lot to live for. Our hearts may not be as passionate and wild as they once were, but there is still a lot of life left in them. And when our friends see us, arm in arm with our husbands, they can surely see that the old proverb contains the wisdom of our ancestors,
“ONE ALWAYS RETURNS TO HIS FIRST LOVE”
