pervaded his thoughts the next morning when the concierge brought him two
letters.

Still more happiness! The first letter contained two notes of a hundred
francs each, with Victor Gaillard's card, who congratulated Amedee anew
and asked him to write something for his journal in the way of prose; a
story, or anything he liked. The young poet gave a cry of joyful
surprise when he recognized the handwriting of Maurice Roger upon the
other envelope.

"I have just returned to Paris, my dear Amedee," wrote the traveller,
"and your success was my first greeting. I must embrace you quickly and
tell you how happy I am. Come to see me at four o'clock in my den in the
Rue Monsieur-le-Prince. We will dine and pass the evening together."

Ah! how the poet loved life that morning, how good and sweet it seemed to
him! Clothed in his best, he gayly descended the Rue St.-Jacques, where
boxes of asparagus and strawberries perfumed the fruit-stalls, and went
to the Boulevard St. Michel, where he purchased an elegant gray felt hat
and a new cravat. Then he went to the Cafe Voltaire, where he lunched.
He changed his second hundred-franc bill, so that he might feel, with the
pleasure of a child, the beautiful louis d'or which he owed to his work
and its success. At the office the head clerk--a good fellow, who sang
well at dinners--complimented Amedee upon his poem. The young man had
only made his appearance to ask for leave that afternoon, so as to take
his manuscript to the publisher.

Once more in the street in the bright May sun, after the fashion of
nabobs, he took an open carriage and was carried to Massif, in the
Passage des Princes. The editor of the Jeunes was seated in his office,