The Flower of the Chapdelaines

nd Chester in O

rmed and refined shopman better. Ovide had long been a celebrity. Lately a brief summary of his career had appeared incidentally

distinctions. Receiving his map he asked, as he looked along a shelf or two: "Have you that book that tells of you--as a slave? your master

Where did you hear of it? From Réné Ducatel, in

n spirit, eh? Yet modern en

y for the virt

iced that! I'm afraid we white folks, the wor

you speak o

" Chester remarked, "is an an

hat art spirit which the tourist trade i

n this whole decaying qua

" Ovide continued, "the best dry land le

's shop, I

e you pass every day without discovering the fa

What are the

mental ironwork, opposite Mme. Seraphine and next below Ducatel--Ducatel, alas, he don

hmaker on the

ves and stood rigid. From an inner room, its glass door opened by Ovide's silver-spectacled wife, came the little black cupid and his charge. Ah, once more what perfection in how

n, but he saw no decent alternative: "Landry, I had not the fain

you are here by business appointment. And what of it i

urt-house, she for I can't divine where--for I've never looked behind me!--that I've had to take another s

arned yet so wise and good? For the young lady's own sake my

ould simply belie itself. Yes,

es

nto life without making moral mistakes, some of them huge. But in this thing--I say

d you came here. It may well be that the young lady he

angel need a

y, in Royal

The youth laughed. "Mercy to me, I mean. But--wait! Tell

ve Castanado

t? Oh, never mind, g

orphan, of a fin

eole, of cours

except one New England grandmother. But for t

rather obscur

a sou or a relation except two

tiq

s their living

t care to

ke it. 'Twould b

ble to dress

small outlay that is done. She has that gift

me how having a Yankee grandmother caused her

tanado's to see that manus

story? Have

t. They wanted my opinion. An

ve story? ve

I cannot say. Me it absorbed because it is the story of some of my race, far fro

mademoisel

two, they bought it lately, of a poor devil--drinking man--for

it, or h

hen I saw that effect I told her of a story like it, yet different, and also seeming true, in this old magazi

on. Your magazine being one of a set, you c

keep my o

hy not? What was the use of eith

ow," he said, "'tis Mr. Chester's logic that fails." Ye

udy character. Let's see what a grand'mère o

the sidewalk door. As he returned, Cheste

t. Here's a deposit for this magazine; a fifty. It's all I have--oh, yes, take it, we'll trade

rst few line

"'Now, Maud,' said my uncle--Oh, me! Landry, i

t as fiction, and that only something in me to

t down with the story. "And so you were grand'mère to our Royal Street miracle. And you had a Southern uncle! So had I! thou

arrested his attention. He also had a manuscript! That lawyer uncle of his, saying as he spared him a few duplicate volumes from his law library, "Burn that if you don't want it," had tossed him a fat document indorsed: "Memorandum of an Early Experience." Later t

a third time, read with a scrutiny of every line as though