Andree and Kendall alighted from the Metro at the Étoile and walked to the apartment. He was rather taken aback to see the _concierge_ sweeping the walk in front of the entrance, for he had hoped subconsciously to smuggle Andree in without being seen. He could hardly have explained this had he been asked. But he need not have been apprehensive. The _concierge_ stopped, peered at Andree keenly for a second, then smiled and bade them good day. Kendall did not know it, but Andree had been inspected and had passed the inspection handsomely. Andree, however, was well aware of it. Bert and Madeleine had not arrived, and Kendall showed Andree into their _salon_ with something of a flourish. She stood looking about her at the massive gilt furniture, at the large bronze statue of Diana with a bent arrow in her hand which stood on a pedestal in a corner, and at a bronze monstrosity depicting Ceres which, half life size, overweighted the mantel. Her little nose was curling. “Oh,” she said in disappointment, “thees is not good. No, no. It is ver’ bad.” “It is sort of fussy,” said Kendall, more than half afraid that she would take fright at so much wretched taste on exhibition and refuse to remain. She seemed of a mind to beat a retreat. “But don’t blame me for it,” he hastened to say. “It isn’t my furniture, you know. This is a furnished apartment—_meublé_, you know. I don’t like these gimcracks any better than you do, but I couldn’t help it.” She continued to shake her head dolefully; then her eyes spied a sort of throne between the windows, a fearful example of what a piece of furniture can be, and clapped her hands with childish delight. “Oh, it ees for me. See!” She ran to it and seated herself on the threadbare seat, her tiny feet dangling above the floor. “Behold!... Regard me!... I am a queen, is it not? You have not the manners. It is that you should kneel. Here ... at once.” Laughingly he humored her whim and, dropping on one knee, he lifted her hand to his lips. She laughed delightedly. Then she stepped down. “Come. I shall see the rest. You shall show me.” And she insisted upon being shown over the apartment, making little sounds of approval or disapproval as she went, and finally they reached the kitchen where Arlette was busy over the stove. “_Bon soir, madame_,” said Andree. “_Bon soir, mademoiselle_,” Arlette replied, and swiftly scrutinized this young woman whom her master was bringing into his home. It was a frank appraisal, for Arlette felt a sort of responsibility for these strange, rather boisterous, difficult-to-understand, but kindly young savages of whom she had taken charge. Then she smiled and released a flood of French upon Andree, who smiled and chattered back at her. Kendall caught only a word here and there, so rapidly did they speak, but it was evident to him that they approved of each other, and there was something very pleasing to him in that. He felt that Arlette would not have approved of everybody.