d to show any interest in his nephew's work, but, as
others were speaking of it, he felt it desirable to be posted up to
date.

It happened that when he called, Claude was out, but Rosa Bonheur Sinel
was there, and at once took it upon herself to do the honours of the
place and to expatiate on the beauties of the canvas.

"_I_ sat for the foot of the daughter," she said; "she is supposed to
have pushed off the drapery. You see, my big toe is fine; it is quite
apart from the one next to it; there is room for three pieces of twenty
sous between them. Sit down this side, so you don't get the varnish; now
if you look through your hand, like that, you will see a large
earthenware thing in the background. That's a big water-bottle; it's
what they used before they were Christians. It has _du style_, you know,
and keeps the water cool. Next week we shall get the frame, then you
will see it plainer; and look at the figures; they are just what is
wanted, and the draperies; monsieur never uses the mannequin, that's
what makes them so natural; that's just how people look when somebody
gets risen from the dead."

And so she went on, assisting Uncle Auguste in arriving at a due
appreciation of the picture, and giving him points he used afterwards
for the enlightenment of his friends. Looking round the studio, he said,
more to himself than to the young lady who had taken him in hand--

"What a garret! Never saw anything like it! Why, there isn't a creature
comfort in the place. I must really send him up some"----

"That you should," broke in Miss Rosa; "I know what he wants."

"And what may that be, Miss Saucebox?" he asked.

"Goldfish in a bowl, and a net with a handle," she said. "Four
goldfish."

"Bosh!" said the tanner; "fiddlesticks!"

But this remarkable young person knew her own mind and would not take
"Fiddlesticks" for an answer, and before many minutes had elapsed, she
was escorting l'oncle Auguste to a neighbouring shop, and superintending
the purchase of a long-coveted bowl resplendent with gold-fish.

"They're just right," she said; "he will like something live, I know;
he's tired of his models. They are all nowhere now, since he has had
that girl, that daughter of Jairus. Oh yes, monsieur, I know all about
it. She's a young person in Lyons, and he wants his father to send for
her, and do I don't know what besides. But I don't want her here with
her big staring eyes and her Sainte Nitouche airs."

L'oncle Aug