inesque disorder; and there was something rural in the droop and
bagginess of his belted trousers.

From immediately behind him, and indeed over his shoulder, a woman's
face looked out into the darkness; it was pale and a little weary,
although still young; it wore a dwindling, disappearing prettiness, soon
to be quite gone, and the expression was both gentle and sour, and
reminded one faintly of the taste of certain drugs. For all that, it was
not a face to dislike; when the prettiness had vanished, it seemed as if
a certain pale beauty might step in to take its place; and as both the
mildness and the asperity were characters of youth, it might be hoped
that, with years, both would merge into a constant, brave, and not
unkindly temper.

"What is all this?" cried the man.

CHAPTER VI

Leon had his hat in his hand at once. He came forward with his customary
grace; it was a moment which would have earned him a round of cheering
on the stage. Elvira and Stubbs advanced behind him, like a couple of
Admetus's sheep following the god Apollo.

"Sir," said Leon, "the hour is unpardonably late, and our little
serenade has the air of an impertinence. Believe me, sir, it is an
appeal. Monsieur is an artist, I perceive. We are here three artists
benighted and without shelter, one a woman--a delicate woman--in evening
dress--in an interesting situation. This will not fail to touch the
woman's heart of Madame, whom I perceive indistinctly behind Monsieur
her husband, and whose face speaks eloquently of a well-regulated mind.
Ah! Monsieur, Madame--one generous movement, and you make three people
happy! Two or three hours beside your fire--I ask it of Monsieur in the
name of Art--I ask it of Madame by the sanctity of womanhood."

The two, as by a tacit consent, drew back from the door.

"Come in," said the man.

"_Entrez_, Madame," said the woman.

The door opened directly upon the kitchen of the house, which was to all
appearance the only sitting-room. The furniture was both plain and
scanty; but there were one or two landscapes on the wall, handsomely
framed, as if they had already visited the committee-rooms of an
exhibition and been thence extruded. Leon walked up to the pictures and
represented the part of a connoisseur before each in turn, with his
usual dramatic insight and force. The master of the house, as if
irresistibly attracted, followed him from canvas to canvas with the
lamp. Elvira was led directly to