At the Castanados', the second evening after, Chester was welcomed into a specially¹ pretty living-room. But he found three other visitors. Madame, seated on a sort of sofa for one, made no effort to rise. Her face, for all its breadth, was sweet in repose² and sweeter when she spoke³ or smiled. Her hands were comparatively small and the play of her vast arms was graceful⁴ as she said to a slim, tallish, comely⁵ woman with an abundance of soft, well-arranged hair:  
"Seraphine, allow me to pres-ent Mr. Chezter."
 
She explained that this Mme. Alexandre was her "neighbor of the next door," and Chester remembered her sign: "Laces and Embroideries⁶."
 
"Scipion," said Castanado to a short, swarthy, broad-bearded man, "I have the honor to make you acquaint' with my friend Mr. Chezter."
 
Chester pressed the enveloping⁷ hand of "S. Beloiseau, Artisan in Ornamental⁸ Iron-work."
 
"Also, Mr. Chezter, Mr. Rene Ducatel; but with him you are already acquaint', I think, eh?"
 
Chester shook hands with a small, dapper, early-gray, superdignified man, recalling his sign: "Antiques in Furniture, Glass, Bronze, Plate, China, and Jewelry⁹." M. Ducatel seemed to be already taking leave. His "anceztral 'ome," he said, was far up-town; he had dropped in solely¹⁰ to borrow--showing it--the Courrier des Etats-Unis.
 
That journal, Castanado remarked to Chester as at a corner table he poured him a glass of cordial, brought the war, the trenches¹¹, the poilu and the boche closer than any other they knew. Beloiseau and Mme. Alexandre, he softly explained, had come in quite unlooked-for to discuss the great strife¹² and might depart at any moment. Then the reading!
 
But Chester himself interested those two and they stayed. When he said that Beloiseau's sidewalk samples had often made him covet¹³ some excuse for going in and seeing both the stock and the craftsman¹⁴, "That was excuse ab-undant!" was the prompt response, and Castanado put in:
 
"Scipion he'd rather, always, a non-buying connoisseur¹⁵ than a buying Philistine¹⁶."
 
"Come any day! any hour!" said Beloiseau.
 
Presently all five were talking of the surviving poetry of both artistic¹⁷ and historic Royal Street. "Twenty year' ag-o," said the ironworker, "looking down-street from my shop, there was not a building in sight without a romantic story. My God! for example, that Hotel St. Louis!"
 
Chester--"had heard one or two of its episodes only the evening before, at that up-town dinner, from a fine old down-town Creole, a fellow guest, with whom he was to dine the next week."
 
"Aha-a-a! precizely ac-rozz the street from Mme. Alexandre!" said the hostess. "M'sieu' et Madame De l'Isle! Now I detec' that!"
 
"Have they no son?--or--or daughter?" he asked.
 
"Not any," Mme. Alexandre broke in with a significant sparkle; "juz' the two al-lone."
 
"They live over my shop," Beloiseau said. "You muz' know that double gate nex' adjoining me."
 
"Oh, that lovely piece of ironwork? I took that for a part of your establishment."
 
"I have only the uze of it with them. My grandpère he made those gate', for the father of Mme. De l'Isle, same year he made those great openwork gate' of Hotel St. Louis. You speak of episode'! One summer, renovating¹⁸ that hotel, they paint' those gate'--of iron openwork--in imitation--mon Dieu!--of marbl'! Ciel! the tragedy of that! Yes, they live over me; in the whole square, both side' the street, last remaining of the 'igh society."
 
When Mme. Alexandre finally rose to go, and had kissed the upturned brow of her hostess, she went by an inner door and rear balcony. And when Chester and Beloiseau began to take leave their host said to Chester:
 
"You dine with M. De l'Isle Tuesday. Well, if you'll come again here the next evening we'll attend to--that business."
 
"Wouldn't that be losing time? I can just as well come sooner."
 
"No," said madame, "better that Wednesday."
 
Chester was nettled¹⁹, but he recovered when the ironworker walked with him around into Bienville Street and at his pension door lamented²⁰ the pathetic decay of the useful arts and of artistic taste, since the advent²¹ of castings and machinery²². The pair took such liking²³ for each other's tenets of beauty, morals, art, and life that Chester walked back to the De l'Isle gates, and their parting at last was at the corner half-way between their two domiciles.
 
Meanwhile madame was saying to her spouse²⁴, "Aha! you see? The power of prayer! Ab-ove all, for the he'pless! By day the fo' corner' of my room, by night the fo' post' of my bed, are----"
 
"Yes, chérie, I know."
 
"Yes, they're to me for Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John! Since three days every time I heard the cathedral clock I've prayed to them; and now----!"
 
"Well, my angel? Now?"
 
"Well, now! He's dining there next Tuesday!"
 
"Truly. Yet even now we can only hope----"
 
"Ah, no! Me, I can also continue to supplicate²⁵! From now till Wednesday, every time that clock, I'll pray those four évangélistes! and Thursday you'll see--the power of prayer! Oh, 'tis like magique, that power of prayer!"