ught to 'ave ask' M'sieu' Thorndyke-Smith to
write at yo' home-town and get you recommen'. Even a cook he's got to
'ave that--or a publisher, eh?"

"I've got that--within reach; my law firm has it. But, pshaw! _I_
think, Beloiseau, while all your maybe's may be right the thing that
explains mademoiselle's whole situation is that she's never seen a man
worthy to touch a hem of her robe; and the only argument a lover can lay
at her feet is that she never will."

"And you'll lay that, negs time?"

"Not till that manuscript business is settled, don't you see? Come, you
must go to bed."

XLIII

Shrimps, rice, and watered wine for a sunset dinner. At its end the
three Chapdelaines, each with her small cup of black coffee, left the
table and its remnants to the other two members of the household, and
passed out as usual to the bower benches and the goldfish pool.

Humming-birds were there, drinking frenziedly from honeysuckle cups to
the health of all things beautiful and ecstatic. Mlle. Yvonne stood at
a bench's end to watch one of them dart from bloom to bloom. "Ah,
Corinne," she sighed, "if we could all be juz' humming-bird'!"

"_Cherie_," cried her sister, "you are spilling yo' coffee!"

Whether for the coffee, for the fact that we can't all be
humming-birds, or for some thought not yet spoken, Mlle. Corinne's eyes
were all but spilling their tears. As the trio sat down. Aline said
in gentlest accusation to the younger aunt:

"You are trembling. Why is that?"

The younger sister looked appealingly to the elder. "_Chere_," Mlle.
Corinne said to the girl, "we are anxiouz to confezz you something. We
woul'n' never be anxiouz to confezz that, only we're af-raid already
you've foun' us out!"

"Yes. I came this evening by Ovide's shop to return a book----"

"An' he tell you he's meet us----?"

"On the steps of the _archeveche_."

"Ah, _cherie_," Yvonne tearfully broke in, "can you ever pardon that to
us?"

Aline smiled: "Oh, yes; in the course of time, I suppose. That was not
like a drinking-saloon."

"Ah-h! not in the leas'! We di'n' touch there a drop--nobodie di'n'
offer us!"

The niece addressed the other aunt: "Go on. Tell me why you were
there."

"Aline, we'll confess us! We wend there biccause--we are orphan'! Of
co'se, we know that biffo', sinze long time, many, many year'; but only
sinze a few day'----"

"Joy-ride day," Aline put in, a bit tensely.

"Ah, no! _Cherie_,