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"Cabinet of the Barons," otherwise known as the "Monocle Cabinet," was asking for popular

support. Elections were always interesting to Lanny, and the young people urged him to come

and see. But Irma had another maternal seizure; she said "Let's run down to Juan again, and

come back for a cruise at the end of the campaign." Lanny said: "Any way you want it."

So the party broke up. Fanny took a steamer to New York, the Robins took the ferry to

Flushing, and the Budds took one to Calais. They sent a telegram to the palace in Paris, and

dinner was ready when they arrived. Irma observed: "It's nice to have your own place; much

nicer than going to a hotel." Lanny saw that she wished to justify herself for having spent

all that money, so he admitted that it was "nicer." Jerry was there, and with a lot of checks

ready for her to sign; he wanted her to go over the accounts, but she was sure they were all

right, and she signed without looking. The three went to a cabaret show, very gay, with music

and dancing and a scarcity of costumes; some of it made Irma blush, but she was trying to

acquire the cosmopolitan tone.

The following evening they were at Bienvenu again. Baby was bigger and brighter; she knew

more words; she remembered what you had taught her. She was growing a mind! "Oh, Lanny,

come see this, come see that!" Lanny would have been glad to settle down to child study, and

to swimming and target-shooting with Bub, and talking to the workers at the school; but they

had made a date with the Robins; and also there came a letter from Pietro Corsatti, who was at

Lausanne, reporting the conference for his paper. He said: "A great show! How come you're

missing it?"

At this time there were two of Europe's international talk-fests being held on the same Swiss

lake. For many years such gatherings had been Lanny's favorite form of diversion; he had

attended a dozen, and had met all the interesting people, the statesmen and writers, the

reformers and cranks. Irma had never been to one, but had heard him tell about them, and

always in glowing terms. Now he proposed: "Let's stop off on our way to Berlin." "O.K. by me!"

said Irma.

VIII

They followed the course of the River Rhone, every stage of which had some memory of

Marie de Bruyne: the hotels where she and Lanny had stopped, the scenery they had admired,

the history they had recalled. But Lanny judged it better for Irma to have her own

memories, unscented by the perfume of any other woman. They climbed into the region of

pine-trees and wound through rocky gorges where the air was still and clear. Many bridges

and a great dam, and it was Lake Leman, with Geneva, home of the League of Nations, an

institution which for a few years had been the hope of mankind, but now appeared to have

fallen victim to a mysterious illness. Since the beginning of the year a great Conference on

Arms Limitation, with six hundred delegates from thirteen nations, had been meeting here,

and was to continue for a year longer; each nation in turn would bring forward a plea to

limit the sort of weapon which it didn't have or didn't need, and then the other nations would

show what was wrong with that plan.

Farther up the lake was Lausanne, where the premiers and foreign ministers were gathered to

debate the ancient question of reparations. Lanny Budd greeted his friend Pete and other

journalists whom he had been meeting off and on since the great peace conference thirteen

summers ago. They remembered him and were glad to see him; they knew about his gold-

embossed wife and her palace in Paris; they knew about Rick and his play. Here was another

show, and a fashionable young couple was taken right behind the scenes.

Lausanne is built on a mountainside, with each street at a different level. The French had a

hotel at the top, the British one at the bottom, and the other nations in between; the

diplomats ascended or descended to have their wrangles in one another's suites, and the

newspapermen wore themselves thin chasing the various controversies up hill and down.

Such, at any rate, was Corsatti's description. The statesmen were trying to keep their doings

secret, and Pete declared that when one saw you he dived into his hole like a woodchuck.

Your only chance was to catch one of them in swimming.

It was good clean fun, if you were a spectator who liked to hear gossip and ferret out

mysteries, or a devil-may-care journalist with an expense account which you padded freely.

The food was of the best, the climate delightful, the scenery ditto, with Mont Blanc right at

your back door—or so it seemed in the dustless Alpine air. You would be unhappy only if you

thought about the millions of mankind whose destiny was being gambled with by politicians.

The gaming-table was a powder-keg as big as all the Alps, and the players had no thought but

to keep their own country on top, their own class on top within their country, and their own

selves on top within their class.

IX

The statesmen had to drop the Young Plan, by which Germany had been bound to pay

twenty-five billion dollars in reparations. But France couldn't give up the hope of getting

something; so now with incessant wrangling they were adopting a plan whereby at the end

of three years Germany was to give bonds for three billion marks. But most observers agreed

that this was pure futility; Germany was borrowing, not paying. Germany was saying to the

bankers of the United States: "We have five billions of your money, and if you don't save us

you will lose it all!" The people of Germany were saying: "If you don't feed us we shall vote

for Hitler, or worse yet for Thalmann, the Bolshevik." The statesmen of Germany were saying:

"We are terrified about what will happen"—and who could say whether they were really

terrified or only pretending? Who could trust anybody in power, anywhere in all the world?

Robbie Budd had told his son a story, which he said all business men knew. A leather

merchant went to his banker to get his notes renewed and the banker refused to comply with

the request. The leather merchant told his troubles and pleaded hard; at last he asked: "Were you

ever in the leather business?" When the banker replied: "No," the other said: "Well, you're in it

now." And that, opined Pietro Corsatti, was the position of the investing public of the United

States; they were in the leather business in Germany, in the steel and coal and electrical and

chemical businesses, to say nothing of the road-building business and the swimming-pool

business. Nor was it enough to renew the notes; it was necessary to put up working capital to

keep these businesses from falling into ruins and their workers from turning Red!

Irma knew that this was the "great world" in which her career was to be carried on, so she

listened to the gossip and learned all she could about the eminent actors in the diplomatic

drama. Lanny had met several of the under-secretaries, and these realized that the wealthy young

couple were entitled to be introduced to the "higher ups." Irma was told that next winter

would probably see more negotiations in Paris, and it was her intention that these im portant

personages should find her home a place for relaxation and perhaps for private conferences.

Emily herself couldn't have done better.

Lanny observed his wife "falling for" the British ruling class. Many Americans did this; it was

a definite disease, known as "Anglomania." Upper-class Englishmen were tall and good-looking,