Others of the company took their departure to their theaters or with their actor companions, or to write their criticisms, and as they went out, laughing and jostling, each stopped at the table of the Americans to shake hands and to say good evening. It was all very genial and companionable—a sort of family affair—but very un-American and droll. Kendall and Bert took their departure soon afterward. The evening was rather hot, but they determined to walk home, a distance of a couple of miles. As they were passing the Hôtel Wagram, Kendall glanced inside and saw, standing just within the lobby, the Miss Knox who had been his playmate on the voyage across the Atlantic. “Wait a minute. Here’s a girl I know,” he said to Bert, and led his companion inside. “Well, Captain Ware!” she exclaimed. “I was wondering if I should ever see you again. What have you been doing? Have you been to the front?” “No. I’m anchored in Paris. And you?” “I’ve been down at Tours, but now I’ve been ordered to report at headquarters here. I don’t know where I shall be sent.” “Better get assigned to Paris,” he said, rashly, “then we can play around together.” “I don’t know.... I’d rather be nearer things. It’s more interesting.” “Anyhow, you’ll be here a day or two. Can’t you take dinner with me to-morrow”——he stopped, hesitated, got a bit red, and finished, lamely—“soon?” “It looks as if I might have competition as a playmate,” she said, dryly. “Is she nice? Who is she? Red Cross or Y. M. C. A.?” “Neither.” She laughed. “And your French is so miserable,” she said. “How do you talk to her?” “She speaks some English,” said Kendall, falling into a trap which had not been set for him, and Bert and Maude Knox laughed as he reddened with embarrassment. “Is she pretty?” Miss Knox demanded of Bert. “I don’t think so,” Bert said, solemnly. “He keeps her under cover. She must be homely or he’d let her be seen.” “Now I won’t buy you a dinner,” Kendall said. “When I am so hungry!” she said, dolefully. “Don’t blame Ken,” Bert said. “She hardly lets him have an evening to himself.” “Well,” said Miss Knox, “if you do get a night off I’ll be glad to see you. Probably I won’t be here but a couple of days, though. You come, too, Captain Stanley, if you like.” “And pay for half of the dinner,” said Bert. “That’s fair. Half the young lady, half the dinner-check. Simple justice.” “Now I’ve got to run up to my room. I think—mind, I only think—I’m going to have a bath. If the bathtub is still there, and if the water hasn’t stopped running, and if a few other things haven’t happened to the plumbing—Good night.... Don’t think of coming, Captain Ware, if it will make any trouble with your friend.”