"Come, Max! Up with your glass!"

"Monsieur, I--I beg you to excuse me! My heart is very full of your
kindness."

"Nonsense, boy! Drink!"

The boy laughed with a catch in his breath, then he drank a little with
nervous haste, coughing as he laid his glass down. The _cognac_ of the
Maison Gustav was of a fiery nature.

The Irishman laughed. "Ah, another peep behind the mask! You may be an
artist, young man--- you may have advanced ideas--but, for all that,
you're only out of the nursery! It's for me to make a man of you, I see.
Come, madame, the _addition_, if you please! We must be going."

For a moment madame was lost in calculation, then she decorously
mentioned the amount of their debt.

The Irishman paid with the manner of a prince, and, slipping his arm
again through the boy's, moved to the door; there he looked back.

"Good-day, madame! Many thanks for your charming hospitality! Give my
respects to monsieur, your husband--and kiss the little Léon for me!"

They passed out into the rue Fabert, into the fresh and frosty air, and
involuntarily the boy's arm pressed his.

"How am I to thank you?" he murmured. "It is too much--this kindness to
a stranger."