Such an expression of happiness had settled, too, on Leà's face as she brought our coffee, that Herbert caught up his sketch-book and made her stand still until he had transferred her dear old head in its white cap to paper. Then, the portrait finished--and it was exactly like her--what a flash of joy suffused Mignon's face when he called to her and whispered in her ear the wonderful tale of why he had drawn it and who was to be its proud possessor; and when it was all to take place, a bit of information that sent her out of the room and skipping across the court, her tiny black kitten at her heels. It was, indeed, a joyous day, with every one in high good humor, culminating in the wildest enthusiasm when the sound of a siren, followed by the quick "chug-chug" of the stop brake of madame's motor, announced the arrival of that distinguished woman an hour ahead of time. [Illustration: Herbert caught up his sketch-book and ... transferred her dear old head ... to paper] "Ah!--gentlemen!" she shouted out, rising from her seat, both hands extended before any of us could reach her car, "I have come over to crown you with laurel! Oh, what a magnificent lot of heroes!--and to think you saved my poor, miserable little mouse-trap of a villa that has been trying all its life to slide down hill into the sea and get washed and scrubbed. No, I don't want your help--I'm going to jump!" and out she came, man's ulster, black-velvet jockey cap, short skirt, high boots, and all, Marc following. "And now, Monsieur Marc, give me a little help--no, not here--down below the seat. Careful, now! And the teakwood stand is there too--I steadied them both with my feet. There, you dear men!"--here she lifted the priceless treasure above her head, her eyes dancing--"what do you think of your punch-bowl? This is for your choicest mixtures whenever you meet, and not one of you shall have a drop out of it unless you promise to make me honorary member of your coterie, with full permission to stay away or come just as I please. Isn't it a beauty?--and not a crack or scar on it--Old Ming, they tell me, of the first dynasty. There, dear Lemois, put it among your things, but never out of reach." She had shaken every one's hand now and was stamping her little feet in their big men's boots to keep up her circulation, talking to us all the while.