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Updated: September 12, 2025
Young Monsieur de Saint-Gre came forward with the good-natured, easy insolence to which he had been born, and looked me over. "Monsieur is an American," he said. "I understand that you have offered this miniature for four hundred livres," I said. "It is the Jew's price," he answered; "mais pardieu, what will you?" he added with a shrug, "I must have the money.
The shadows now were sharply defined, the checkered foliage of the trees was flung in black against the yellow-white wall of the house with the lions, and the green-latticed gallery which we had watched the night before seemed silent and deserted. I knocked at the gate, and presently a bright-turbaned gardienne opened it. Was Monsieur de Saint-Gre at home.
When Auguste saw that he fell in love with it, and now he wishes to go to France and obtain a commission through our cousin, the Marquis of Saint-Gre, and marry Mademoiselle Helene." "A comprehensive programme, indeed," said Nick. "My father has gone back to New Orleans," she said, "to get the miniature from Auguste. He took it from me, Monsieur." She raised her head a little proudly.
"You are very welcome, Messieurs," she answered, with the same delightful accent which her daughter had used, "and you are especially welcome from such a source. The friends of Colonel Chouteau and of Monsieur Gratiot are our friends. You will remain with us, I hope, Messieurs," she continued. "Monsieur de Saint-Gre will return in a few days at best."
What if he should come in and discover the party at the table? I stopped short in the hallway, and there Madame Bouvet overtook me. "How can I thank you, Monsieur?" she said. And then, "You will return the portrait to Monsieur de Saint-Gre?" "I have a letter from Monsieur Gratiot to that gentleman, which I shall deliver in the morning," I answered. "And now, Madame, I have a favor to ask of you."
Colonel Chouteau and I will give you letters to certain French gentlemen in New Orleans who can be trusted. There is Saint-Gre, for instance, who puts a French Louisiana into his prayers. He has never forgiven O'Reilly and his Spaniards for the murder of his father in sixty-nine.
"Since the fire, Monsieur, the dreadful fire of Good Friday a year ago. You admire them?" "I saw one," I answered with indifference, "with a wall and lions on the gate-posts " "Mon Dieu, that is a house," exclaimed Madame; "it belongs to Monsieur de Saint-Gre." "To Monsieur de Saint-Gre!" I repeated. She shot a look at me. She had bright little eyes like a bird's, that shone in the candlelight.
Ritchie and myself." "You have come to stay awhile?" she said. I thought it time that the farce were ended. "We have come with letters to your father, Monsieur de Saint-Gre, Mademoiselle," I said, "and I should like very much to see him, if he is at leisure." Mademoiselle stared at me in unfeigned astonishment. "But did you not meet him, Monsieur?" she demanded.
And yet he is a Saint-Gre, Monsieur, and I cannot refuse him. It is the miniature of Mademoiselle Helene de Saint-Gre, the daughter of the Marquis, sent to Mamselle 'Toinette, his sister, from France. How he has obtained it I know not." "Ah!" I exclaimed sharply, the explanation of the scene of which I had been a witness coming to me swiftly.
"All of which is neither here nor there, Monsieur," I answered sharply. "The question is purely a commercial one, and has nothing to do with the lady's character or position." "It is well said, Monsieur," Madame Bouvet put in. Monsieur Auguste de Saint-Gre shrugged his slim shoulders and laid down the portrait on the walnut table. "Four hundred livres, Monsieur," he said.
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