e "tantine." "You know, Mr. Chezter, 'tantine' tha'z 'auntie,' an'
tha'z j'uz' a li'l' name of affegtion for her, biccause she takes so much
mo' care of us than we of her; you see? But that bower an' that li'l'
lake, my sizter an' me we construc' them both, that bower an' that li'l'
lake."

Without blazoning it they would have him know they had not squandered
"tantine's" hard earnings on architects and contractors.

"And we assure you that was not ladies' work. 'Twas not till weeks we
achieve' that. That geniuz Aline! _she_ was the arshetec'. And those
goldfishes--like Aline--are self-su'porting! We dispose them at the
apothecary, Dauphine and Toulouse Street--ha, ha, ha! Corinne, tha'z the
egstent of commerce we ever been ab'e to make, eh?"

"And now," said Aline, "the story."

"Ah, yes," responded Mlle. Corinne, "at laz' the manuscrip'!" and Mlle.
Yvonne echoed, with a queer guilt in her gayety:

"The manuscrip'! the myzteriouz manuscrip'!"

But there the gate bell sounded and she sprang to her feet. Cupid could
answer it, but some one must be indoors to greet the caller.

"Yes, you, Yvonne," the elder sister said, and Aline added: "We'll not
read till you return."

"Ah, yes, yes! Read without me!"

"No-no-no-no-no! We'll wait!"

"We'll wait, Yvonne." The sister went.

Chester smoothed out the pages, but then smilingly turned them face
downward, and Aline said:

"First, Hector will tell us who's there."

Hector was Cupid. He came again, murmuring a name to Mlle. Corinne. She
rose with hands clasped. "C'est M. et Mme. Rene Ducatel!"

"Well? Hector will give your excuses; you are imperatively engaged."

"Ah, _chere_, on Sunday evening! Tha'z an incredibility! Must you not
let me go? You 'ave 'Ector."

"Ah-h! and we are here to read this momentous document to Hector?" The
sparkle of amused command was enchanting to at least one besides Cupid.

Yet it did not win. "Chere, you make me tremble. Those Ducatel',
they've come so far! How can we show them so li'l' civilization when
they've come so far? An' me I'm convince', and Yvonne she's convince',
that you an' Mr. Chezter you'll be ab'e to judge that manuscrip' better
al-lone. Oh, yes! we are convince' of that, biccause, you know--I'm
_sorrie_--we are prejudice' in its favor!"

Aline's lifted brows appealed to Chester. "Maybe hearing it," he
half-heartedly said, "may correct your aunts' judgment."

The aunt shook her head in a