I rose from my chair and began bawling out the good news of madame's expected visit to the occupants of the several windows, the effect being almost as startling as had been Mignon's song. Instantly plans were cried down at me for her entertainment. Of course she must stay to dinner, our last one for the season! This was carried with a whoop. There must be, too, some kind of a special ceremony when the invitation was delivered. We must greet her at the door--all of us drawn up in a row, with Herbert stepping out of the ranks, saluting like a drum-major, and requesting the "distinguished honor"--and the rest of it: that, too, was carried unanimously. Whatever her gardening costume, it would make no difference, and no excuse on this score would receive a moment's consideration. Madame even in a fisherman's tarpaulins would be welcome--provided only that she was really inside of them. With the whirl of her motor into the court-yard at dusk, and the breathing of its last wheeze in front of the Marmouset, the plump little woman sprang from her car muffled to her dimpled chin in a long waterproof, her two brown, squirrel eyes laughing behind her goggles. Instantly the importuning began, everybody crowding about her. Up went her hands. "No--please don't say a word and, whatever you do, don't invite me to stay to dinner, because I'm not going to; and that is my last word, and nothing will change my mind. Oh!--it is too banal--and you've spoiled everything. I didn't think I'd see anybody. Why are you not all in your rooms? Oh!--I am ready to cry with it all!" "But we can't think of your leaving us," I begged, wondering what had disturbed her, but determined she should not go until we had found out. "Pierre has been at work all the morning and we----" "No--it is I who have been working all the morning, digging in my garden, getting ready for the winter, and I am tired out, and so I will go back to my little bed in my dear garage and have my dinner alone." Here Herbert broke loose. "But, madame, you _must_ dine with us; we have been counting on it." He had set his heart on another evening with the extraordinary woman and did not mean to be disappointed. "But, my dear Monsieur Herbert, you see, I----" "And you really mean that you won't stay?" groaned Louis, his face expressive of the deepest despair.