cent a
trick of my uncle's, one of those Atlantic cables he takes for spider's
threads and makes his snares of. The Lorinet family have been here, with
the twofold intention of taking news of me to my "dear good uncle," and
discreetly recalling to my forgetful heart the charms of Berthe of the
big feet.

"Good-morning, Monsieur Mouillard!"

"Hallo! Madame Menin! Good-morning, Madame Menin!"

"So you are back at last, sir! How brown you have got--quite sunburnt.
You are quite well, I hope, sir?"

"Very well, thank you; has any one been here in my absence?"

"I was going to tell you, sir; the plumber has been here, because the
tap of your cistern came off in my hand. It wasn't my fault; there had
been a heavy rain that morning. So--"

"Never mind, it's only a tap to pay for. We won't say any more about it.
But did any one come to see me?"

"Ah, let me see--yes. A big gentleman, rather red-faced, with his wife,
a fat lady, with a small voice; a fine woman, rather in my style, and
their daughter--but perhaps you know her, sir?"

"Yes, Madame Menin, you need not describe her. You told them that I was
away, and they said they were very sorry."

"Especially the lady. She puffed and panted and sighed: 'Dear Monsieur
Mouillard! How unlucky we are, Madame Menin; we have just come to Paris
as he has gone to Italy. My husband and I would have liked so much to
see him! You may think it fanciful, but I should like above all things
to look round his rooms. A student's rooms must be so interesting.
Stay there, Berthe, my child.' I told them there was nothing very
interesting, and that their daughter might just as well come in too, and
then I showed them everything."

"They didn't stay long, I suppose?"

"Quite long enough. They were an age looking at your photograph album.
I suppose they haven't got such things where they come from. Madame
Lorinet couldn't tear herself away from it. 'Nothing but men,' she said,
'have you noticed that, Jules?'--'Well, Madame,' I said, 'that's just
how it is here; except for me, and I don't count, only gentlemen come
here. I've kept house for bachelors where--well, there are not many--'

"That will do, Madame Menin; that will do. I know you always think too
highly of me. Hasn't Lampron been here?"

"Yes, sir; the day before yesterday. He was going off for a fortnight
or three weeks into the country to paint a portrait of some priest--a
bishop, I think."

July 15th