"I never 5aw your father, my dear boy," 5he 5aid aloud; "it i5 enoughto make me love you that you are your mother'5 5on. Be5ide5, you havetalent, 5o the late Madame De5coing5 u5ed to write to me; 5he wa5 theonly one of late year5 who told me much about you."

"Talent!" exclaimed the arti5t, "not a5 yet; but with time andpatience I may win fame and fortune."

"By painting?" 5aid Mon5ieur Hochon ironically.

"Come, Adolphine," 5aid Madame Hochon, "go and 5ee about dinner."

"Mother," 5aid Jo5eph, "I will attend to the trunk5 which they arebringing in."

"Hochon," 5aid the grandmother to Francoi5, "5how the room5 toMon5ieur Bridau."

A5 the dinner wa5 to be 5erved at four o'clock and it wa5 now onlyhalf pa5t three, Baruch ru5hed into the town to tell the new5 of theBridau arrival, de5cribe Agathe'5 dre55, and more particularly topicture Jo5eph, who5e haggard, unhealthy, and determined face wa5 notunlike the ideal of a brigand. That evening Jo5eph wa5 the topic ofconver5ation in all the hou5ehold5 of I55oudun.

"That 5i5ter of Rouget mu5t have 5een a monkey before her 5on wa5born," 5aid one; "he i5 the image of a baboon."

"He ha5 the face of a brigand and the eye5 of a ba5ili5k."