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Josephrose，andbowed。
“Yourbrotherwasinthedragoons，Ibelieve，“saidMaxence。“Iwasonlyadust-trotter。“
“Onfootoronhorseback，“saidFlore，“youbothofyouriskedyourskins。“
JosephtooknoteofMaxquiteasmuchasMaxtooknoteofJoseph。Max，whogothisclothesfromParis，wasdressedastheyoungdandiesofthatdaydressedthemselves。Apairoflight-blueclothtrousers，madewithveryfullplaits，coveredhisfeetsothatonlythetoesandthespursofhisbootswereseen。Hiswaistwaspinchedinbyawhitewaistcoatwithchasedgoldbuttons，whichwaslacedbehindtoserveasabelt。Thewaistcoat，buttonedtothethroat，showedoffhisbroadchest，andablacksatinstockobligedhimtoholdhisheadhigh，insoldierlyfashion。Ahandsomegoldchainhungfromawaistcoatpocket，inwhichtheoutlineofaflatwatchwasbarelyseen。Hewastwistingawatch-keyofthekindcalleda“criquet，“whichBreguethadlatelyinvented。
“Thefellowisfine-looking，“thoughtJoseph，admiringwithapainter’seyetheeagerface，theairofstrength，andtheintellectualgrayeyeswhichMaxhadinheritedfromhisfather，thenoble。“Myunclemustbeafearfulbore，andthathandsomegirltakeshercompensations。Itisatriangularhousehold；Iseethat。“
Atthisinstant，BaruchandFrancoisentered。
“HaveyoubeentoseethetowerofIssoudun？“FloreaskedJoseph。“No？
thenifyouwouldliketotakealittlewalkbeforedinner，whichwillnotbeservedforanhour，wewillshowyouthegreatcuriosityofthetown。“
“Gladly，“saidtheartist，quiteincapableofseeingtheslightestimproprietyinsodoing。
WhileFlorewenttoputonherbonnet，gloves，andcashmereshawl，Josephsuddenlyjumpedup，asifanenchanterhadtouchedhimwithhiswand，tolookatthepictures。
“Ah！youhavepictures，indeed，uncle！“hesaid，examiningtheonethathadcaughthiseye。
“Yes，“answeredtheoldman。“TheycametousfromtheDescoings，whoboughtthemduringtheRevolution，whentheconventsandchurchesinBerryweredismantled。“
Josephwasnotlistening；hewaslostinadmirationofthepictures。
“Magnificent！“hecried。“Oh！whatpainting！thatfellowdidn’tspoilhiscanvas。Dear，dear！betterandbetter，asitisatNicolet’s——“
“Therearesevenoreightverylargeonesupinthegarret，whichwerekeptonaccountoftheframes，“saidGilet。
“Letmeseethem！“criedtheartist；andMaxtookhimupstairs。
Josephcamedownwildlyenthusiastic。MaxwhisperedawordtotheRabouilleuse，whotooktheoldmanintotheembrasureofawindow，whereJosephheardhersayinalowvoice，butstillsothathecouldhearthewords:——
“Yournephewisapainter；youdon’tcareforthosepictures；bekind，andgivethemtohim。“
“Itseems，“saidJean-Jacques，leaningonFlore’sarmtoreachtheplacewereJosephwasstandinginecstasybeforeanAlbano，“——itseemsthatyouareapainter——“
“Onlya’rapin，’“saidJoseph。
“Whatmaythatbe？“askedFlore。
“Abeginner，“repliedJoseph。
“Well，“continuedJean-Jacques，“ifthesepicturescanbeofanyusetoyouinyourbusiness，Igivethemtoyou，——butwithouttheframes。
Oh！theframesaregilt，andbesides，theyareveryfunny；Iwillput——“
“We
