he palm of
your hand."

Leighton bowed once more in recognition of the pause.

"One day," continued Le Brux, "the boy rushed in here without knocking.
He had something to show me. I did not have the hardihood to rebuke him,
but, remembering myself in the quality of wet nurse, I was dismayed, for
on this very couch lay Cellette--Cellette _simple_, without garnishings,
you understand. She was lying on her front, her chin in her hand, and
reading a book. I let her read a book, when I can, for my own peace.

"Well, the boy showed me what he had to show, and that gave me time to
collect my wits. I saw him look at Cellette without a tremor, and just
as I was deciding to take the moment by the horns, he did it for me.
'Oh,' he said, 'are you working on her? _Mon matre_, please let me
watch!' A vile tongue, English, to understand, but it was easy to read
his eyes. I said, 'Watch away, my child,' and I continued to transmit
Cellette to the cloud up there in my big group. The boy stood around.
When I glanced at the model, his eyes followed. When I worked, he worked
with me.

"My old one, you may believe it or not, but I felt that boy's fingers
itching all the time. Finally, I chucked a great lump of clay upon the
bench yonder, and I said, 'Here, go ahead; you model her, too.'
Then--then--he--he said----" Le Brux showed signs of choking. He
controlled himself, and continued--"he said, 'I can't model anything,
_Maitre_, unless I feel it first'"

"Letonne, I give you my word of honor that I kept my face. I not only
kept my face, but I said to Cellette--she hadn't so much as looked up
from her book--I said to her, 'Cellette, this young sculptor would like
to model you, but he says he must feel you first.' Cellette looked
around at that. You know those gamine eyes of hers that are always sure
they'll never see anything new in the world? But you don't. In years
Cellette is very young--long after your time. Well, she turned those
eyes around, looked the boy over, and said" 'Let the babe feel.' Then
she went back to her book.

"I waved the boy to her, gravely, with a working of my fingers that was
as plain as French. It said, 'The lady says you may feel.' The boy steps
forward, and I pretend to go on with my work."

Le Brux stopped. "Excuse me, my friend," he said nervously. "Will you
kindly send for another pail of water?"

Leighton glanced into the pail.

"There's enough left," he said impatiently. "Go on."

"Ah, yes," sig