"No, monsieur, no. Our clientele is mostly French. We have only this young
lady, her brother, and their father, monsieur. The father is a Senator in
his own country--Senator Burton. They are very charming people, and have
stayed with us often before. All our other guests are French. We have never
had such a splendid season: and all because of the Exhibition!"

"I'm glad you are doing well," said Dampier courteously. "But for my
part"--he shrugged his shoulders--"I'm too much of a Parisian to like the
Exhibition."

Then he turned to Nancy: "Well, you'll be quite safe, my darling. Monsieur
and Madame Poulain are only just through here, so you needn't feel lonely."

And then there came a chorus of bonsoirs from host, from hostess, and from
the lad who now stood waiting with the Englishman's large portmanteau
hitched up on his shoulder.

Dampier bent and kissed his wife very tenderly: then he followed Monsieur
Poulain and the latter's nephew up the stairs, while Madame Poulain stayed
behind and helped Mrs. Dampier to unpack the few things she required for
the night.

And Nancy, though she felt just a little bewildered to find herself alone
in this strange house, was yet amused and cheered by the older woman's
lively chatter, and that although she only understood one word in ten.

Madame Poulain talked of her daughter, Virginie, now in the country well
away from the holiday crowds brought by the Exhibition, and also of her
nephew, Jules, the lad who had carried up the luggage, and who knew--so