"And you? You, too, could have dined with the Councillor von Boscher, considering how intimate you are with these Germans. Did you not wish to follow your parents?"
The word was said decidedly, simply. But M. Ulrich had not got the information he sought. Yes, Jean Oberlé had certainly become a man. He refused to blame his family, to voice any opinion which would be an accusation of the others. His uncle continued with the same ironical accent:
"Nevertheless, my nephew, all the winter through your Berlin successes were dinned into my ears. They did not spare me. I knew you were dancing with our fair enemies. I knew their names."
"Oh, I beg you," said Jean seriously, "do not let us joke about these questions--like people who dare not face them and give their opinion. I have had a different education from yours, it is true, uncle--a German education. But that does not diminish my love for this country; on the contrary...."
M. Ulrich stretched his hand across the table and pressed that of Jean.
"I did not doubt it, my child--I did not know. I see so many things that pain me--and so many convictions surrendered."
"The proof that I love our Alsace is shown by my intention to live in Alsheim."
"What!" said M. Ulrich, stupefied. "You give up the idea of entering the German Administration--as your father desires you should do? It is grave--a serious thing, my friend, to rob him of his ambition. You were the subject of the future. Does he know?"
"He suspects; but we have not yet had any explanations on the matter. I have not had time since my return."
The youthful smile reappeared on the lips of Jean Oberlé.
"I shall cut wood, as he does, as my grandfather Phillipe does; I shall settle among you here. When I travelled in Germany and in Austria, after my examination, it was chiefly that I might study the forests, the saw-mills, and the factories like our own. You are weeping?"
M. Ulrich was not weeping, but he was obliged to dry his wet eyelids with the tip of his finger.
"It would be for joy, in any case, my dear boy. Oh, for a true and great joy. To see you faithful to what I love best in the world. To keep you with us--to see you determined not to accept appointments and honours from those who have violated your country.... Yes, it was the dream I dared no longer dream.... Only, quite frankly, I cannot understand it. I am surprised. Why are you not like your father, or like Lucienne, who have so openly rallied to the enemy? You studied law in Munich, in Bonn, in Heidelberg, in Berlin; you have just passed four years in Germany, without speaking of your college years. How did you avoid becoming German?"