“Count me a pupil to the economy of these versatile French,” exclaimed Elsie rapturously. “I know now what I was born for. Madam Minaud shall make an artist of me. I am positively inspired with ambition.”
“Or Madam Minaud’s supper,” observed Gilbert.
“We Americans long ago accepted the gospel of plain ‘boiled and fried,’ and your dispensation is only just beginning to be felt among those who have lived abroad. It is certainly a much-needed lesson,” said the doctor as he complacently accepted Lizzette’s offer of a second omelette.
“Ze French nevaire trow away like ze Anglais. Zey save ze leetle sings, and so zey grow reech where ze Anglais—il a de quoi vivre mais bien maigrement.”
“Our lines have fallen in pleasant places,” cried Elsie enthusiastically. “Antoine shall teach me French, and Madam Minaud shall bestow upon me the art of converting wayside weeds into meat and drink for the fleshly tabernacle.”
“You are making the bargain all for yourself, Elsie. What compensation do you propose in return?” asked Margaret with an amused glance at the girl’s flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes.
“Compensation?” exclaimed Antoine quickly. “Everything! herself, love—ah, we shall be more than paid. I shall have the companion I have longed for, and ma mère will see the rose come back to my cheeks and be glad. Is it not so?” and the child’s hand sought Elsie’s as it rested on the back of his chair.
“Yes, yes,” said Elsie eagerly. “You shall have all the comfort I can give you, dear child.”
As she spoke she pushed back the jetty curls and left the warm touch of her lips upon the lad’s white forehead. In an instant the thin arms were around her neck, and he cried excitedly: “I love you so, and I shall never be unhappy again.”
Grave Dr. Ely turned away from this scene with quivering lip, and his voice was not altogether steady as he said: “Well, Gilbert, that stove-pipe does not look half so formidable as it did before Madam Minaud’s delicious supper.”