monsieur was both better and worse.

One evening, as Charlie sat by the vine-clad window with his fireless
pipe in his hand, the old Colonel's eyes fell full upon his own, and
rested there.

"Charl--," he said with an effort, and his delighted nurse hastened to
the bedside and bowed his best ear. There was an unsuccessful effort or
two, and then he whispered, smiling with sweet sadness,--

"We didn't trade."

The truth, in this case, was a secondary matter to Charlie; the main
point was to give a pleasing answer. So he nodded his head decidedly, as
who should say--"Oh yes, we did, it was a bona-fide swap!" but when he
saw the smile vanish, he tried the other expedient and shook his head
with still more vigor, to signify that they had not so much as
approached a bargain; and the smile returned.

Charlie wanted to see the vine recognized. He stepped backward to the
window with a broad smile, shook the foliage, nodded and looked smart.

"I know," said the Colonel, with beaming eyes,"--many weeks."

The next day--

"Charl--"

The best ear went down.