ue tongues, dancing on top of the crimson
embers, are extremely picturesque. They are like a fire in an
alchemist's laboratory."

"You are too good-natured, my dear," his companion declared.

The young man held out one of his drawings, with his head on one side.
His tongue was gently moving along his under-lip. "Good-natured--yes.
Too good-natured--no."

"You are irritating," said the lady, looking at her slipper.

He began to retouch his sketch. "I think you mean simply that you are
irritated."

"Ah, for that, yes!" said his companion, with a little bitter laugh. "It
's the darkest day of my life--and you know what that means."

"Wait till to-morrow," rejoined the young man.

"Yes, we have made a great mistake. If there is any doubt about it
to-day, there certainly will be none to-morrow. Ce sera clair, au
moins!"

The young man was silent a few moments, driving his pencil. Then at
last, "There are no such things as mistakes," he affirmed.

"Very true--for those who are not clever enough to perceive them. Not
to recognize one's mistakes--that would be happiness in life," the lady
went on, still looking at her pretty foot.

"My dearest sister," said the young man, always intent upon his drawing,
"it 's the first time you have told me I am not clever."

"Well, by your own theory I can't call it a mistake," answered his
sister, pertinently enough.

The young man gave a clear, fresh laugh. "You, at least, are clever
enough, dearest sister," he said.

"I was not so when I proposed this."

"Was it you who proposed it?" asked her brother.

She turned her head and gave him a little stare. "Do you desire the
credit of it?"

"If you like, I will take the blame," he said, looking up with a smile.

"Yes," she rejoined in a moment, "you make no difference in these
things. You have no sense of property."

The young man gave his joyous laugh again. "If that means I have no
property, you are right!"

"Don't joke about your poverty," said his sister. "That is quite as
vulgar as to boast about it."

"My poverty! I have just finished a drawing that will bring me fifty
francs!"

"Voyons," said the lady, putting out her hand.

He added a touch or two, and then gave her his sketch. She looked at it,
but she went on with her idea of a moment before. "If a woman were to
ask you to marry her you would say, 'Certainly, my dear, with pleasure!'
And you would marry her and be ridiculously happy. Then at the end of
th