A smile of justification lit up his face at the question.
“No, sir; for the last week I have not possessed a penny. I have spent all I had for your little purchases.”
“And the brush? I suppose that is why ...?”
He still smiled. Now, he might very well have said, “No, sir; I am not the empty-headed ass you would make out your faithful servant to be. Pay me the one pound two shillings and sixpence halfpenny you owe me, and then I’ll buy you your brush.” But no, he bore this ill treatment rather than cause his master to blush at his unjust anger. And may Heaven bless him! Philosophers, Christians! have you read this?
“Come, Joannetti,” said I, “buy me the brush.”
“But, sir, will you go like that, with one shoe clean, and the other dirty?”
“Go, go!” I replied, “never mind about the dust, never mind that.”
He went out. I took the duster, and daintily wiped my left shoe, on which a tear of repentance had fallen.
XX.
Albert and Charlotte.
THE walls of my room are hung with engravings and pictures, which adorn it greatly. I should much like to submit them to the reader’s inspection, that they might amuse him along the road we have to traverse before we reach my bureau. But it is as impossible to describe a picture well, as to paint one from a description.