oiselles, you don't know those razcal' like me!"

"Oh!" cried the tender Yvonne--original rescuer of Marie Madeleine from
boy lynchers--"you don't have charitie! That way you make _yo'seff_
un'appie."

"Me, I cann' think," her sister persevered, "that tha'z juz' for the
insuranse. The manuscrip' is receive'? Well! 'ow can you receive
something if you don't agcept it? And 'ow can you agcep' that if you
don' receive it? Ah-h-h!"

"No," Beloiseau rejoined, "tha'z only to signify that the editorial
decision--tha'z not decide'."

Mlle. Corinne lifted both hands to the entire jury: "Oh, frien', I
assure you, that manuscrip' is agcept'. And tha'z the proof; that both
Yvonne and me we've had a presentiment of that already sinze the
biggening! Ah-h-h!"

Castanado intervened: "Mademoiselle, that lady yonder"--he gave his
wife a courtier's bow--"will tell you a differenze. Once on a time she
receive' a h-offer of marriage; but 'twas not till after many days thad
she agcept' it." [Applause.] "But ad the en', I su'pose tha'z for Mr.
Chezter, our legal counsel, to conclude."

Mr. Chester "thought that although receipt did not imply acceptance the
tardiness of this letter did argue a probability that the manuscript
had successfully passed some sort of preliminary reading--or
readings--and now awaited only the verdict of the editor-in-chief."

"Or," ventured Mme. Alexandre, "of that editorial board all together."

M. De l'Isle shook his head and then a stiff finger: "I tell you! They
are sicretly inquiring Thorndyke-Smith--lit'ry magnet--to fine out if
we are truz'-worthy! And tha'z the miztake we did---not sen'ing the
photograph of Mlle. Aline ad the biggening. But tha'z not yet too
late; we can wire them from firz' drug-store, 'Suspen' judgment!
Portrait of authorezz coming!'"

All eyes, even Cupid's, turned to her. She was shaking her head.
"No," she responded, with a smile as lovely, to Chester's fancy, as it
was final; as final, to the two aunts' conviction, as it was lovely.

"No photograph would be convincing," Chester began to plead, but
stopped for the aunts.

"Oh, impossible!" they cried. "That wou'n' be de-corouz!"

"Ladies an' gentlemen," said M. Castanado, "we are on a joy-ride."

"An' we 'ave reason!" his wife exclaimed.

"Biccause hope!" Mme. Alexandre put in.

"Yes!" said Dubroca. "That manuscrip' is not allone receive'; sinze
more than a week 'tis _rittain'_, whiles they dillib-rate; an