Madame Ratignolle looked more beautiful than ever there at home, in a

neglige which left her arms almost wholly bare and exposed the rich,

melting curves of her white throat.

"Perhaps I shall be able to paint your picture someday," said Edna with

a smile when they were seated. She produced the roll of sketches and

started to unfold them. "I believe I ought to work again. I feel as if I

wanted to be doing something. What do you think of them? Do you think it

worthwhile to take it up again and study some more? I might study for a

while with Laidpore."

She knew that Madame Ratignolle's opinion in such a matter would be next

to valueless, that she herself had not alone decided, but determined;

but she sought the words of praise and encouragement that would help her

to put heart into her venture.

"Your talent is immense, dear!"

"Nonsense!" protested Edna, well pleased.

"Immense, I tell you," persisted Madame Ratignolle, surveying the

sketches one by one, at close range, then holding them at arm's length,

narrowing her eyes, and dropping her head on one side. "Surely, this

Bavarian peasant is worthy of framing; and this basket of apples! never

have I seen anything more lifelike. One might almost be tempted to reach

out a hand and take one."

Edna could not control a feeling which bordered upon complacency at

her friend's praise, even realizing, as she did, its true worth.

She retained a few of the sketches, and gave all the rest to Madame

Ratignolle, who appreciated the gift far beyond its value and proudly

exhibited the pictures to her husband when he came up from the store a

little later for his midday dinner.

Mr. Ratignolle was one of those men who are called the salt of the

earth. His cheerfulness was unbounded, and it was matched by his

goodness of heart, his broad charity, and common sense. He and his wife

spoke English with an accent which was only discernible through its

un-English emphasis and a certain carefulness and deliberation.

Edna's husband spoke English with no accent whatever. The Ratignolles

understood each other perfectly. If ever the fusion of two human beings

into one has been accomplished on this sphere it was surely in their

union.

As Edna seated herself at table with them she thought, "Better a dinner

of herbs," though it did not take her long to discover that it was no

dinner of herbs, but a delicious repast, simple, choice, and in every

way satisfying.

Monsieur Ratignolle was delighted to see her, though he found her

looking not so well as at Grand Isle, and he advised a tonic. He talked

a good deal on various topics, a little politics, some city news and

neighborhood gossip. He spoke with an animation and earnestness that

gave an exaggerated importance to every syllable he uttered. His wife

was keenly interested in everything he said, laying down her fork the

better to listen, chiming in, taking the words out of his mouth.




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