ving alms. I couldn't help thinking that
he must have begged over there! My sisters looked at me, surprised at my
generosity. When I returned the two francs to my father, my mother asked
me in surprise:

"'Was there three francs' worth? That is impossible.'

"I answered in a firm voice

"'I gave ten cents as a tip.'

"My mother started, and, staring at me, she exclaimed:

"'You must be crazy! Give ten cents to that man, to that vagabond--'

"She stopped at a look from my father, who was pointing at his
son-in-law. Then everybody was silent.

"Before us, on the distant horizon, a purple shadow seemed to rise out of
the sea. It was Jersey.

"As we approached the breakwater a violent desire seized me once more to
see my Uncle Jules, to be near him, to say to him something consoling,
something tender. But as no one was eating any more oysters, he had
disappeared, having probably gone below to the dirty hold which was the
home of the poor wretch."

THE MODEL

Curving like a crescent moon, the little town of Etretat, with its white
cliffs, its white, shingly beach and its blue sea, lay in the sunlight at
high noon one July day. At either extremity of this crescent its two
"gates," the smaller to the right, the larger one at the left, stretched
forth--one a dwarf and the other a colossal limb--into the
water, and the bell tower, almost as tall as the cliff, wide below,
narrowing at the top, raised its pointed summit to the sky.

On the sands beside the water a crowd was seated watching the bathers. On
the terrace of, the Casino another crowd, seated or walking, displayed
beneath the brilliant sky a perfect flower patch of bright costumes, with
red and blue parasols embroidered with large flowers in silk.

On the walk at the end of the terrace, other persons, the restful, quiet
ones, were walking slowly, far from the dressy throng.

A young man, well known and celebrated as a painter, Jean Sumner, was
walking with a dejected air beside a wheeled chair in which sat a young
woman, his wife. A manservant was gently pushing the chair, and the
crippled woman was gazing sadly at the brightness of the sky, the
gladness of the day, and the happiness of others.

They did not speak. They did not look at each other.

"Let us stop a while," said the young woman.

They stopped, and the painter sat down on a camp stool that the servant
handed him.

Those who were passing behind the silent and motionless couple look