nds of bustling
crowds and gay voices greeted them. "I say," he continued, "the place
appears to have been discovered." Gretchen followed him in while he
held the door, and stood by removing her gloves while he conferred with
the head waiter. She glanced up as she folded her gloves in time to
see the man wisk a bill into his apron pocket.

"Follow me, monsieur."

The professor took Gretchen's arm and led her along. Their table was
in the back and, as Professor Bridwell had hoped, it was close by an
open brick fireplace filled with a roaring blaze of crackling oak logs.
She sat in silent attendance while their waiter recited, in heavily
accented English, a seemingly unending speech upon the specialities of
the house.

Gretchen lost the particulars mid-way, and her eyes strayed beyond him
to the fire. "I'm quite overwhelmed," she exclaimed when he had
finished and stood poised before them. "Please--do what you think
best, Professor."

Professor Bridwell surprised her then, by leaning back with the casual
air of one who knows what he is about, and held forth in what seemed,
to Gretchen's ear, flawless French.

"Bravo, Professor," she chimed when he had finished. "Your French is
beautiful."

The professor seemed somewhat embarrassed then, and smoothly turned the
conversation to the decor. The room was hardly what Gretchen should
have expected of a French cafe--it was done in stark white, with high
rafters of carved wood, but upon the walls hung gorgeously worked
Persian carpets which served to bring the ceiling down and lend
intimacy to the room; and to muffle the sound of so many conversing
guests. Their entrees arrived in due course--a delightful poached
white fish in delicate sauce, which they ate practically in silence,
but for the occasional comment upon the food. He asked after her
health, and heard the small-talk of the day, then listened with
interest to an abridged account of her life, interjecting only
occasional questions to clarify certain points. She stopped short of
revealing the estrangement of her family, but dwelt upon her years at
university.

Gretchen at length noticed the emptiness of her plate and declared that
the fish positively melted in one's mouth. Professor Bridwell replied
that he would send compliments to the chef. His smile grew gradually
as he said this, with a hint of something further he wished to add, but
he stopped.

"Was there something else?" she asked, setting he