jo STORIES FROM. DAUDET

the graving-tool of his father the gold-
smith. The story ran that Queen Joan
herself had stroked that golden beard,
and the lord of Védéne had that air, at
once arrogant and absent, of those
beloved by queens. On this day, to
do honour to his country, he had ex-
changed his Neapolitan garments for
a doublet bordered with rose-colour
in the Provencal fashion, and a great
plume of the Camargue ibis nodded
in his cap.

As soon as he entered, the Grand
Mustard-bearer bent gracefully to the
assembly, and went towards the flight
of steps where the Pope was going to
invest him with the insignia of his rank
—the yellow boxwood spoon and the
saffron robe. The mule was at the
bottom of the steps, ready saddled for
the excursion to the vineyard. As
he passed her Tistet Védtne smiled
sweetly and stopped to stroke her
gently on the hind-quarters, looking
sideways at the Pope as he did so.