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The Pigeon 217
forlorn and almost as dead as her violets which no
one cares to buy.
At sight of her misery Wellwyn forgets his
daughter s practical admonition and his promise
to her not to be
"
a fool." He treats the flower-
seller tenderly, makes her warm and comfortable.
He has barely time to show Guinevere into his
model s room, when another knock is heard.
This time it is Ferrand,
"
an alien," a globe trot
ter without means, a tramp whom Wellivyn had
once met in the Champs-Elysees. Without food
for days and unable to endure the cold, Ferrand
too comes to the artist.
Ferrand. If I had not found you, Monsieur I
would have been a little hole in the river to-night I
was so discouraged. . . . And to think that in a few min
utes He will be born! . . . The world would reproach
you for your goodness to me. Monsieur, if He himself
were on earth now, there would be a little heap of gen
tlemen writing to the journals every day to call him
sloppee sentimentalist! And what is veree funny, these
gentlemen they would all be most strong Christians.
But that will not trouble you, Monsieur; I saw well
from the first that you are no Christian. You have so
kind a face.
Ferrand has deeper insight into the character of
Christopher Welliscyn than his daughter. He
knows that the artist would not judge nor could he
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