“Finizh’ already that reading?  You muz’ have gallop’!  Well, and what is Mr. Chezter’s conclusion on that momentouz manuscrip’?”

The niece hurried to answer first:  “Ah! we must not ask that so immediately.  Mr. Chester concludes ’tis better for all that he study that an evening or two in his seclusion.”

“And! you did not read it through together?”

“No, there was no advantage to——­”

“Oh! advantage!  An’ you stop’ in the mi’l of that momentouz souvenir of the pas’!  Tha’z astonizhing that anybody could do that, an’ leas’ of all” [confronting Chester] “the daughter of a papa an’ gran’papa with such a drama-tique bio-graphie!  Mr. Chezter, to pazz the time Aline ought to ’ave tell you that bio-graphie, yes!—­of our marvellouz brother an’ papa.  Ah, you should some day egstort that story from our too li’l’ communicative girl.”

“Why not to-day, for the book?”

“Oh, no-no-no-no-o!  We di’n’ mean that!” The sisters laughed excessively.  “A young lady to put her own papa into a book—­ah! im-pos-si-ble!”

They laughed on.  “Even my sizter an’ me, we have never let anybody egstort that, an’ we don’t know if Aline ever be persuade’——­”

“Yes, some day I’ll tell Mr. Chezter—­whatever he doesn’t know already.”

“Ha-ha! we can be sure tha’z not much, Aline.  And, Corinne, if he’s heard this or that, tha’z the more reason to tell him co’rec’ly.  Only, my soul! not to put in the book, no!”

“Ah, no!  Though as between frien’, yes.  And, moreover, to Mr. Chezter, yes, biccause tha’z so much abbout that Hotel St. Louis and he is so appreciative to old building’.  Ah, we’ve notice’ that incident!  Tha’z the cause that we egs’ibit you our house—­as a relique of the pas’—­Yvonne! we are forgetting!—­those souvenir’ of our in-fancy—­to show them!  Come—­all!”

Half-way to the house—­“Ah, ha-ha! another subjec’ of interess!  See, Mr. Chezter; see coming!  Marie Madeleine!  She’s mis’ both her beloved miztress’ from the house and become anxious, our beautiful cat!  We name’ her Marie Madeleine because her great piety!  You know, tha’z the sacred truth, that she never catch’ a mice on Sunday.”

“Ah, neither the whole of Lent!”

In the parlor—­“I really think,” Chester said, “I must ask you to let me take another time for the souvenirs.  I’m so eager to save this manuscript any further delay—­” He said good-by.

Yet he did not hurry to his lodgings.  He had had an experience too great, too rapt, to be rehearsed in his heart inside any small, mean room.  All the open air and rapid transit he could get were not too much, till at lamplight he might sit down somewhere and hold himself to the manuscript.

Meantime the Chapdelaines had been but a moment alone when more visitors rang—­a pair!  Their feet could be seen under the gate—­two male, two female—­that is not a land where women have men’s feet.  Flattering, fluttering adventure—­five callers in one afternoon!  “Aline, we are becoming a public institution!” The aunts sprang here, there, and into collision; Cupid sped down the walk; Marie Madeleine stood in the door.