"How painted? do you mean to say that they paint flowers now? Ah! I understand, you mean that I ought to have a portrait made of it? I have thought of that for some of my other rare plants; but I was on bad terms with my brother, and when I went to other painters I was never satisfied with their crazy daubing. I paid big prices and then slashed the canvas or tore the paper." "And you have never thought of Julien?" "Bah! Julien! an apprentice!" "Have you ever seen any of his work?" "No, nothing, faith!" "Do you want me to bring----" "No, nothing, I tell you. We are not on good terms." "Yes you are! He has always called on you on the first of January every year, and you have never had any fault to find with his manner toward you." "True, he is well brought up, he isn't stupid or bad-looking; but since I refused to advance him the money to redeem the house at Sèvres----" "Julien has never uttered a word of blame or dissatisfaction, I give you my word of honor." "All that doesn't prove that he has the necessary talent!" "Look! a small specimen tells the story as well as a large one. Take your magnifying glass and look at this." Marcel took from his pocket a pretty little tortoise-shell snuff-box, on the lid of which was a bouquet painted in miniature by Julien. Although it was not in his regular line of work, he had made a microscopic reproduction of one of his large canvases to decorate this gift for Marcel, and it was in truth a little _chef-d'œuvre._ Uncle Antoine did not know enough about painting to appreciate its artistic qualities; but he knew the structure of every detail of a plant as well as the most accomplished botanist, and, armed with his magnifying glass, if he could not count the stamens of each flower and the veins of each leaf, he could at all events assure himself that, in the sacrifices which the artist had made in favor of the general effect, there was involved no error, no caprice of the imagination, no offence, however slight, against the unchangeable laws of creation. He looked a long while, then ingenuously inquired if Julien was capable of painting flowers as large as life, and upon Marcel's replying in the affirmative he decided that Julien should paint the portrait of the _Antonia Thierrii_, but that it must be done under his eyes, so that he could see to it that it was absolutely exact in the smallest details. "I know what these painters are!" he said; "they always want to invent, to improve on the original. They talk to you about _style_ and _light_ and _effect!_ Oh! I remember all their foolish words! If Julien chooses to obey me, between us we may perhaps succeed in producing something fine! Go and tell him, so that he will be ready to come and pass an hour here the day after to-morrow; it will be in full flower then."