“Yes, Mademoiselle Germaine: there’s only me to do it. All the servants have started for the station, and my wife and I are going to see after the family to-night and to-morrow morning. Shall I show these gentlemen in?” “Who are they?” said Germaine. “Two gentlemen who say they have an appointment.” “What are their names?” said Germaine. “They are two gentlemen. I don’t know what their names are. I’ve no memory for names.” “That’s an advantage to any one who answers doors,” said the Duke, smiling at the stolid Firmin. “Well, it can’t be the two Charolais again. It’s not time for them to come back. I told them papa would not be back yet,” said Germaine. “No, it can’t be them, Mademoiselle Germaine,” said Firmin, with decision. “Very well; show them in,” she said. Firmin went out, leaving the door open behind him; and they heard his hob-nailed boots clatter and squeak on the stone floor of the outer hall. “Charolais?” said the Duke idly. “I don’t know the name. Who are they?” “A little while ago Alfred announced two gentlemen. I thought they were Georges and Andre du Buit, for they promised to come to tea. I told Alfred to show them in, and to my surprise there appeared two horrible provincials. I never—Oh!” She stopped short, for there, coming through the door, were the two Charolais, father and son. M. Charolais pressed his motor-cap to his bosom, and bowed low. “Once more I salute you, mademoiselle,” he said. His son bowed, and revealed behind him another young man. “My second son. He has a chemist’s shop,” said M. Charolais, waving a large red hand at the young man. The young man, also blessed with the family eyes, set close together, entered the hall and bowed to the two girls. The Duke raised his eyebrows ever so slightly. “I’m very sorry, gentlemen,” said Germaine, “but my father has not yet returned.” “Please don’t apologize. There is not the slightest need,” said M. Charolais; and he and his two sons settled themselves down on three chairs, with the air of people who had come to make a considerable stay. For a moment, Germaine, taken aback by their coolness, was speechless; then she said hastily: “Very likely he won’t be back for another hour. I shouldn’t like you to waste your time.” “Oh, it doesn’t matter,” said M. Charolais, with an indulgent air; and turning to the Duke, he added, “However, while we’re waiting, if you’re a member of the family, sir, we might perhaps discuss the least you will take for the motor-car.” “I’m sorry,” said the Duke, “but I have nothing to do with it.” Before M. Charolais could reply the door opened, and Firmin’s deep voice said: “Will you please come in here, sir?” A third young man came into the hall. “What, you here, Bernard?” said M. Charolais. “I told you to wait at the park gates.” “I wanted to see the car too,” said Bernard. “My third son. He is destined for the Bar,” said M. Charolais, with a great air of paternal pride. “But how many are there?” said Germaine faintly.