ty."

"One so secure in his position as M. Granger can lose nothing by
forbearance."

"In other words, I am to endure patiently the taunts of an apron,
because its wearer is worthy of a surtout?"

"The prompt nature of hunger is well known. Fifty years ago, I might
have shrieked in the _Place de la Concorde_. France has degenerated; I
polish your shoes."

The assumption of inferiority was so defiant that I said, bluntly, "This
can never excuse the neglect of faculties bestowed by Heaven."

He shrugged his shoulders, and answered, "There was a time when power
succumbed to intellect. 'Stand out of my sunlight,' said Diogenes to
Alexander; and Alexander did so. This is Paris, M. Granger, and we are
living on the _Rue Lepelletier_."

"And, frightened at its splendor, M. Marcel has prudently determined to
put his brains under regimen."

"M. Marcel has prudently determined to avoid in future a _tete-a-tete_
with his superiors."

He started abruptly to the door, and I called him back; determined
distance even in a servant is far from flattering, and I asked him
frankly if his visits to my apartments were as distasteful as his manner
would lead me to infer.

He answered, politely, "Were fickle Fortune waiting to conduct me to the
summit of my ambition, I would detain her a few hours to enjoy society
so charming; but M. Granger forgets he is addressing a domestic."

"Stubborn in your pride to the last! What am I to think of one who holds
all sympathy in contempt?"

"_Basta!_" he fiercely exclaimed. "I am like a vagrant cur: flying from
the sticks and stones of a vile rabble, I fawn with cringing servility
on the first hand that throws me a crust."

"Wrong, Marcel; wrong," I earnestly answered. "You are trying to warp
your nature, as you tried to force the fruits of summer to bloom and
ripen in midwinter. You _will_ be human, and your egg-plants will rot in
the earth."

My words seemed to have taken away every particle of color there was in
him. His eyes contracted until they resembled those of a wild animal,
and for a moment I thought he was going to spring at my throat. His
voice--when finally he regained it--sounded like that of another
person.

"M. Granger," said he, "a man visiting the _Jardin des Plantes_ once
undertook to stroke a leopard. Strange as it may appear, the animal was
more pleased with petting than the inquiring mind imagined. The instant
our naturalist attempted to desist, the creature raise