of the finest collections of tapestries in the world.
What are you doing to-morrow morning?"

"Going to see the inside of the Chateau," I said.

"Good. So's Susan. She'll meet you at the gate on the Boulevard at
half-past ten. She only arrived yesterday, and now her mother wants
her, and she's got to go back. She's wild to see the Chateau before
she goes, and I can't take her because of this silly foot."

"I'm awfully sorry," said I. "But it's an ill wind, etc."

"Susan," said Mrs. Waterbrook, "that's a compliment. Is it your first?"

"No," said Susan. "But it's the slickest."

"The what?" cried her aunt.

"I mean, I didn't see it coming."

I began to like Susan.

"'Slickest,'" snorted Mrs. Waterbrook. "Nasty vulgar slang. If you
were going to be here longer, Captain Pleydell's wife should give you
lessons in English. She isn't a teacher, you know. She's an
American--with a silver tongue. And there's that wretched bell." She
rose to her feet. "If I'd remembered that Manon had more than three
acts, I wouldn't have come." She turned to me. "Is Jill here
to-night?"

"She is."

"Will you tell her to come and find us in the next interval?"

"I will."

"Good. Half-past ten to-morrow. Good night."

On the way to the doors of the theatre she stopped to speak with
someone, and Susan came running back.

"Captain Pleydell, is your wife here?"

I nodded.

"Well, then, when Jill's with Aunt Eleanor, d'you think I could--I
mean, if you wouldn't mind, I'd--I'd love a lesson in English."

I began to like Susan more than ever.

"I'll see if she's got a spare hour to-morrow," I said. "At half-past
ten."

Susan knitted her brows.

"No, don't upset that," she said quickly. "It doesn't matter. I want
to be able to tell them I had you alone. But if I could say I'd met
your wife, too, it'd be simply golden."

As soon as I could speak--

"You wicked, forward child," I said. "You----"

"Toodle-oo," said Susan. "Don't be late."

Somewhat dazedly I turned in the direction of the _salle de danse_--so
dazedly, in fact, that I collided with a young Frenchman who was
watching the progress of _le jeu de boule_. This was hardly
exhilarating. Of the seven beings gathered about the table, six were
croupiers and the seventh was reading _Le Temps_.

I collided roughly enough to knock a cigarette out of my victim's hand.

"Toodle-oo--I mean _pardon, Monsieur. Je vous demande pardon._"

"It's q