and it was in flowing trousers, in
a dressing-gown secured at the waist by a silken cord, and with his head
covered with a priest's skull-cap, that he received his visitors.

He came to open the door himself, holding his palette and brushes.

'So here you are! It was a good idea of yours to come! I was thinking
about you, my dear fellow. Yes, I don't know who it was that told me of
your return, but I said to myself that it wouldn't be long before I saw
you.'

The hand that he had free grasped Claude's in a burst of sincere
affection. He then shook Jory's, adding:

'And you, young pontiff; I read your last article, and thank you for
your kind mention of myself. Come in, come in, both of you! You don't
disturb me; I'm taking advantage of the daylight to the very last
minute, for there's hardly time to do anything in this confounded month
of November.'

He had resumed his work, standing before his easel, on which there was
a small canvas, which showed two women, mother and daughter, sitting
sewing in the embrasure of a sunlit window. The young fellows stood
looking behind him.

'Exquisite,' murmured Claude, at last.

Bongrand shrugged his shoulders without turning round.

'Pooh! A mere nothing at all. A fellow must occupy his time, eh? I did
this from life at a friend's house, and I am cleaning it a bit.'

'But it's perfect--it is a little gem of truth and light,' replied
Claude, warming up. 'And do you know, what overcomes me is its
simplicity, its very simplicity.'

On hearing this the painter stepped back and blinked his eyes, looking
very much surprised.

'You think so? It really pleases you? Well, when you came in I was just
thinking it was a foul bit of work. I give you my word, I was in the
dumps, and felt convinced that I hadn't a scrap of talent left.'

His hands shook, his stalwart frame trembled as with the agony of
travail. He rid himself of his palette, and came back towards them,
his arms sawing the air, as it were; and this artist, who had grown old
amidst success, who was assured of ranking in the French School, cried
to them:

'It surprises you, eh? but there are days when I ask myself whether
I shall be able to draw a nose correctly. Yes, with every one of my
pictures I still feel the emotion of a beginner; my heart beats, anguish
parches my mouth--in fact, I funk abominably. Ah! you youngsters, you
think you know what funk means; but you haven't as much as a notion
of it, for if you fail