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"Already," said Castanado, "we chanze to have three or four. Mademoiselle has that story of her grand'mère, and Mr. Chezter he has sir, you'll not care if I tell that? Mr. Chezter has the sequal to that, and written by his uncle!" "Yes," Chester put in, "but Ovide Landry finds it was printed years ago." "Proof!" proclaimed Mme. Alexandre, "proof that 'tis good to print ag-ain!
Chezter to do that, if " "If he'll take the pains," the niece broke in, "to call Sunday afternoon. Then I'll have the manuscript back from Mr. Castanado and we'll read it to my Aunt Corinne and my Aunt Yvonne, all four together in the garden."
Louis dome yonder, tha'z better than a modestie withoud that. That origin-al manuscrip' we don't want that ag-ain; we've all read that. But I think Mr. Chezter he's also maybe got that riv-ision in his pocket, an' we ought to hear, now, at ones, that riv-ision!" Miles. Corinne and Yvonne led the applause, and presently Chester was reading: This is a true story.
His expected letter had come, bringing many pleasant particulars of it, and the two parents were enjoying a genuine and infectious complacency. "And one thing of the largez' importanze, Mrs. Chezter," madame said with sweet enthusiasm, " the two they are of the one ril-ligion!" Was the announcement unlucky, or astute? At any rate it threw the subject wide open by a side door, and Mrs.
All other outcries ceased half-uttered when the Chapdelaine sisters clapped hands for joy, crying: "Agcepted! Agcepted! Ah, Aline! by that kindnezz and sag-acitie of Mr. Chezter and all the rez' of our Royal Street frien' you are biccome the diz-ting-uish' and lucrative authorezz, Mlle. Chapdelaine!" M. De l'Isle's wrath was too hot for his tongue, but Scipion stood waiting to speak, and Mme.
"And also you, you've h-ask' mademoiselle, I think," said the ironworker, "and alas, she's say aggain, no, eh?" The reply was a gaze and a nod. "Well, Mr. Chezter, I'm sorrie! Her reason you can't tell. 'Tis maybe juz' biccause those hero' are yonder. 'Tis maybe only that those two aunt' are here. Maybe 'tis biccause both, maybe neither. You can't tell. Maybe you h-ask too soon.
Yet, still, ad the same time, we don't feel antique. We don't feel mo' than ten year'! And especially when we are showing those souvenir' of our in-fancy. And there is nothing we love like that." "Aline, chère, doubtlezz Mr. Chezter will be very please' to see yo' li'l' dress of baptism! Long time befo', that was also for me, and my sizter.
"No," madame put in, "you see, you can't riturn at Castanado's immediately to-morrow or next day. That next day, tha'z Sunday, but you don't know if madame goin' to have the stren'th for that fati-gue. Yet same time you can't wait forever! And bisside', yo' Aunt Corinne, Aunt Yvonne Mr. Chezter he's never have that lugsury to meet them, and that will be a very choice o'casion for Mr.
"M. Beloiseau?" the chair hostess said; and Scipion, with languor in his voice but a burning fervor in his eye, responded: "I think Mr. Chezter he's speaking with a too great modestie or else dip-lomacie. Tha'z not good! If fid-elitie to art inspire me a conceitednezz as high" his upthrown hand quivered at arm's length "as the flagpole of Hotel St.
Castanado intervened: "Mademoiselle, that lady yonder" he gave his wife a courtier's bow "will tell you a differenze. Chezter, our legal counsel, to conclude." Mr.
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