eccentric man? The morning broke dank and drear, for the December air
had chilled the moisture into a fog. The wide verandas that opened on
the court-yard in rear were dripping with the rain, and the broad
flag-stones covered with a greasy slime. The diminutive grass-plot was
brown and soggy, but the withered blades rapidly disappeared under the
sturdy plunges of Marcel's spade. I had gone out on the gallery to fill
a ewer with water--in his excitement of the previous evening, Marcel had
forgotten my morning bath--and saw him distinctly through the
_jalousies_. He must have commenced at daylight; for, though it was then
early, the ground was almost entirely dug up. Near him, on the pavement,
was the basket over which he had displayed so much agitation. He
prepared six holes, each of which was carefully lined with straw, and
then deliberately commenced planting the egg-plants _whole_.

An hour or two later, he came up with the coffee. I thought he turned a
shade or two paler at seeing me up and dressed; but no vestige of
petulance remained. Having really taken no offense at the outburst, I
rallied him concerning it.

"I was wrong," said he, gravely; "but nature has left me destitute of
tact. An artist was once ordered to paint a one-eyed princess: the
artful man made the picture a profile. Devoid of his discernment, I saw
only my ruined treasures."

"And, after acting like a wild man, you sneer at my curiosity."

"One so secure in his position as M. Granger can lose nothing by
forbearance."

"In other words, I am to endure patiently the taunts of an apron,