But after the good dinner, where every one was kind to him, and Aimée sat by his side patting his hand, he felt more at his ease. A flash of the old fire came into his eyes. He even told one or two good stories which made the company laugh.
The good-natured concierge was pleased at his child's pleasure. Even Leo had a good meal sent down to him.
When Alphonse rose to go, they begged him to come again, and he made them a graceful bow, as he had used to do to an audience.
The winter went by. Warmer winds blew. Snow melted under the hot February sunshine.
One day Aimée came to her old man in the cellar with a bunch of violets and a bright face.
"Oh M. Alphonse—M. Alphonse! I am to make my First Communion! And at Easter! So soon! Art thou not glad?"
"Yes, dear little one. Thou wilt wear
