Momma said she didn't, and Miss Malt disappeared in search of other performers. "Don't you go asking strangers to play, Emmeline," her mother called after her. "They'll think it forward of you." "When Emmeline leaves us," said her father, "I always have a kind of abandoned feeling, like a top that's got to the end of its spin." There was silence for a moment, and then the Senator said he thought he could understand that. "Well," continued Mr. Malt, "you've had three whole days now. I presume you're beginning to know your way around." "I think we may say we've made pretty good use of our time," responded the Senator. "This morning we had a look in at the Luxembourg picture gallery, and the Madeleine, and Napoleon's Tomb, and the site of the Bastile. This afternoon we took a run down to Notre Dame Cathedral. That's a very fine building, sir." "You saw the Morgue, of course, when you were in that direction," remarked Mr. Malt. "Why no," poppa confessed, "we haven't taken much of liking for live Frenchmen, up to the present, and I don't suppose dead ones would be any more attractive." "Oh, there's nothing unpleasant," said Mrs. Malt, "nothing that you can _notice_." "Nothing at all," said Mr. Malt. "They refrigerate them, you know. We send our beef to England by the same process----" "There are people," the Senator interrupted, "who never can see anything amusing in a corpse." "They don't let you in as a matter of course," Mr. Malt went on. "You have to pretend that you're looking for a relation." "We had to mention Uncle Sammy," said Mrs. Malt. "An uncle of Mis' Malt's who went to California in '49 and was never heard of afterward," Mr. Malt explained. "First use he's ever been to his family. Well, there they were, seven of 'em, lying there looking at you yesterday. All in good condition. I was told they have a place downstairs for the older ones." "Alexander," said momma faintly, "I think I _should_ like a little brandy in my coffee. Were there--were there any ladies among them, Mr. Malt?" "Three," Mr. Malt responded briskly, "and one of them had her hair----" "Then _please_ don't tell us about them," momma exclaimed, and the silence that ensued was one of slight indignation on the part of the Malt family. "You been seeing the town at all, evenings?" Mr. Malt inquired of the Senator. "I can't say I have. We've been seeing so much of it in the daytime, we haven't felt able to enjoy anything at night except our beds," poppa returned with his accustomed candour. "Just so. All the same there's a good deal going on in Paris after supper." "So I've always been told," said the Senator, lighting another cigar. "They've got what you might call characteristic shows here. You see a lot of life." "Can you take your ladies?" asked the Senator. "Well of course you _can_, but I don't believe they would find it interesting."