Georgette told us, as she served us our lunch, that she intended to leave the little restaurant beside the Luxembourg Garden... for the restaurant of "Madame Baudet" — Boulevard Raspail, at the corner of the rue "Léopold Robert."

I talked the matter over with Gibran, and we settled on the view that this latter restaurant suited us as well, for it lay halfway between our two lodgings and close to the free art academies.

We were at the beginning of summer, and some tables had been set out on the wide sidewalk in front of the restaurant, ringed by greenery and flowers; we would sit around them as though in the middle of a garden...

This restaurant of Madame Baudet's was the first restaurant in the Latin Quarter designed in the modern style. That is to say — artistically — it departed from the conception of the classical style that was still prevalent: the lines of the wooden frames, the manageress's desk, the doors and the windows — all of these, instead of being straight and simple, took on winding shapes ending in something like great leaves and strange ornaments — inspired, no doubt, by the artistic revolution.

As for the "style" of Madame Baudet herself, the revolution had not touched it... She kept her classicism pure, free of every blemish... and she retained, at fifty, a full, imposing figure, a round face framed by white hair smoothed back, and two eyes sharp as an eagle's, above all when she stared into the distance or when she pointed her finger to alert one of the waitresses to some matter... When Gibran and I passed her and greeted her respectfully, she would smile at us with a mother's tenderness... and no

And so at Madame Baudet's restaurant we were honored and esteemed; we sat like princes in

truth and exchanged talk and dis-cussion as we pleased, reaching out boldly to probe and analyze the great hopes, and touching on the small trivial details, alike...

And at times, when we felt in ourselves no inclination to work at the art academy, and Gibran had no appointment, we liked to stroll along the Boulevard Montparnasse, walking

on foot until we reached that corner where the "Lilas" café stands — there we would drink a cup of coffee, contemplating with admiration the statue of Marshal "Ney" brandishing his sword "Forward!" — the work of the sculptor "Rude"... Then we would go on to the garden of the "Observatoire" and saunter around the beautiful basin, rais-

ing our eyes with the wonder of children to the statues of the four continents, the work of the sculptor "Carpeaux" — four women, each woman representing one of the four continents in her form and her features — all of them beautiful, naked, lifting the terrestrial globe upward with graceful movements — a true artistic masterpiece! And around it the waters gush from every side... and the tender evergreen trees shade both sides of the broad walk... No taste rises above French taste! — "We are in Paris!" Gibran would exclaim, from sheer gladness and delight!

I close my eyes now, and how quickly the image of Gibran takes shape in my mind: with his tender smile and the ring of his warm voice and the expressive movement of his hand, and his forever-questioning fingers... as if he and I were walking on our way to the Luxembourg Garden... We turn off to the north and sit on the terrace overlooking the palace and part of the garden... It is as if I now hear the echo of

Madame Baudet's Restaurant

wonder, for we were among the distinguished customers: while the ordinary customers paid the waitress a "tip" of five centimes, we paid ten... The servants would whisper among themselves that we were princes from Lebanon... Georgette would hasten, when we came in, to reserve the best table for us, draw our attention to the good items on the menu, and single us out in her treatment from all the customers; so we took comfort in this special consideration and in this distinction that raised us above others... The price of a meal in those blessed days, however dear and costly it might be, did not reach two francs!..

Gibran's voice in my ear:

— We are in Paris, Youssef!. In this verdant garden; before us, on this path, walked the feet of so many of the great scholars and the great artists... I feel the