"At your service," replied the painter, inviting him in.

The stranger had one of those honest faces which typify the provincial.

"Sir," said he. "My cousin has often spoke to me of your talent for
portrait painting, and being on the point of making a voyage to the
colonies, whither I am deputed by the sugar refiners of the city of
Nantes, I wish to leave my family something to remember me by. That is
why I am come to see you."

"Holy Providence!" ejaculated Schaunard. "Marcel, a seat for Monsieur--"

"Blancheron," said the new-comer, "Blancheron of Nantes, delegate of the
sugar interest, Ex-Mayor, Captain of the National Guard, and author of a
pamphlet on the sugar question."

"I am highly honoured at having been chosen by you," said the artist,
with a low reverence to the delegate of the refiners. "How do you wish
to have your portrait taken?"

"In miniature," replied Blancheron, "like that," and he pointed to a
portrait in oil, for the delegate was one of that class with whom
everything smaller than the side of a house is miniature. Schaunard had
the measure of his man immediately, especially when the other added that
he wished to be painted with the best colours.

"I never use any other," said the artist. "How large do you wish it to
be?"

"About so big," answered the other, pointing to a kit-cat. "How much