"Now listen to me, love," she said, with an ingenuous smile. "I will never touch another drop as long as I live." "Do you mean that truly?" "Truly, truly, truly! I was so ill, and so unhappy at being left alone! I can't bear you out of my sight, John, dear, and if you won't take advantage of it I don't mind confessing I am a wee bit jealous. We will not talk of it any more, will we?" "It is a solemn promise you have given me." "A solemn, solemn promise, love. If you have any doubts of me I will go down on my knees and swear it." "I take your word, Barbara." While Barbara was dressing the manager of the hotel waited upon me, and to my surprise handed me my account. As I had not been in the house twenty-four hours I inquired if it was usual for his visitors to pay from day to day. No, he replied blandly it was not usual. Then why call upon me so soon for payment? Did he mistrust me? He was shocked at the suggestion. Mistrust an English gentleman? Certainly not--no, no. This with perfect politeness and much deprecatory waving of his hands. "But you expect a settlement of this account," I said, irritated by his manner. "If monsieur pleases. And if monsieur will be so obliging as to seek another hotel in which he will be more comfortable, more at his ease----" "I understand," I said. "You turn me out. Why?" "If monsieur will be pleased to listen. The servants were not used to the ways of monsieur and madame; and there had been complaints from visitors. The sick gentleman in the next apartment----" "Enough," I said, impatiently. "I leave your hotel within the hour, and I will never set foot in it again." He was grieved, devastated, but if monsieur had so resolved---- These uncompleted sentences were very significant, and afforded a sufficiently clear explanation of the proceeding. With suppressed anger I ran my eye down the account, and pointed to an item of five francs for brandy. "Supplied this morning," he explained, "to monsieur's order. Five francs--yes, monsieur would find it quite correct." "I required only a small glass," I said. "It is an imposition." He trusted not; such an accusation had never been brought against him. Would monsieur be kind enough to produce the decanter? A proper deduction would be made if only one small glass had been taken. "Produce the decanter! Certainly I will." I called to Barbara to give me the decanter, and, her white arm bared to the shoulder, she handed it out to me. It was empty. I blushed from shame. "Does monsieur find the account correct?" "It is correct. Here is your money." He receipted the bill and departed with polite bows and more deprecatory waving of his hands. As I sat with my closed eyes covered by my hand, Barbara touched my shoulder. I looked up into her smiling face. "Have I made myself beautiful, dear?"